The Tales of the Son of Poseidon: The Sea of Monsters
by Yugioash
Summary: Just when I thought I can finish the school year off without being expelled, Laistrygonian Giants attack me. And after I had a nightmare of Grover being captured. Now Annabeth and I along with my new adopted/half-brother Cyclops Tyson must catch up with Clarisse to rescue Grover, find the Golden Fleece to save Thalia's Tree and prove Chiron innocent before Luke gets in our way.
1. My Best Friend Shops for a Wedding Dress

**A/N:** If you haven't read them yet read The Tales of the Son of Poseidon and the Early Adventures first if you haven't read it then The Tales of the Son of Poseidon  & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief.

* * *

 **The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Sea of Monsters**

 **My Best Friend Shops for a Wedding Dress**

My nightmare started like this.

I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town. It was the middle of the night. A storm was blowing. Wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up. A block away, past a line of hibiscus bushes, the ocean churned.

 _Florida,_ I thought. I didn't have to been here before to know where I was at—one of the privileges of being the son of the sea god.

Then I heard hooves clattering against the pavement. I turned and saw my friend Grover running for his life.

Yeah, I said _hooves_.

Grover is a satyr. From the waist up, he looks like a typical gangly teenager between fourteen to fifteen years old with a peach-fuzz goatee and a bad case of acne. He walks without his pants on (which I don't recommend), you'd never know there was anything unhuman about him. Baggy jeans and fake feet hide the fact that he's got furry hindquarters and hooves.

Grover had been my friend since I was seven years old, six years ago. Actually, he was more than that. He'd been like a brother to me. He'd gone on this adventure with me and a girl I also knew since I was seven named Annabeth to save the world, but I hadn't seen him since last independence day, when he set off alone on a dangerous quest—a quest no satyr had ever returned from.

Anyway, in my dream, Grover was hauling goat tail, holding his human shoes in his hands the way he does when he needs to move fast. He clopped past the little tourist shops and surfboard rental places. The wind bent the palm trees almost to the ground.

If I didn't know better, I would of said my dad—Poseidon: the Greek god of the sea—has been stirring up a hurricane in anger. But the terrified look on Grover's face says otherwise. Something was chasing him, and my guess is that it was right behind him. He must've just come from the beach. Wet sand was caked in his fur. He'd escaped from somewhere. He was trying to get away from… something.

A bone rattling growl cut through the storm. Behind Grover, at the far end of the block, a shadowy figure loomed. It swatted aside a street lamp, which burst in a shower of sparks.

Grover stumbled, whimpering in fear. He muttered to himself, _Have to get away. Have to warn them!_

I couldn't see what was chasing him, but I could hear it muttering and cursing. The ground shook as it got closer. Grover dashed around a street corner and faltered. He'd run into a dead-end courtyard full of shops. No time to back up. The nearest door had been blown open by the storm. The sign above the darkened display window read: ST. AUGUSTINE BRIDAL BOUTIQUE.

Grover dashed inside. He dove behind a rack of wedding dresses.

The monster's shadow passed in front of the shop. I could smell the thing—a sickening combination of wet sheep wool and rotten meat and that weird sour body odor only monsters have, like a skunk that's been living off Mexican food.

Grover trembled behind the wedding dresses. The monster's shadow passed on.

Silence except for the rain. Grover took a deep breath. Maybe the thing was gone.

Then lightning flashed. The entire front of the store exploded, and a monstrous voice bellowed: "MIIIIINE!"

…

I sat bolt upright, shivering in my bed.

There was no storm. No monster—well, at least not the monster from my dream.

Morning sunlight filtered through my bedroom window.

I thought I saw a shadow flickered across the glass—a humanlike shape. But then there was a knock on my bedroom door—my mom called: "Percy! You and Tyson are going to be late"—and the shadow at the window disappeared.

I hope I was imagining things, but as a demigod, you learn to expect what defies mortal logic.

"Come on, dear," my mother called again. "Last day of school. You should be excited! You've almost made it!"

"Coming!" I managed.

I felt under my pillow. My fingers closed reassuringly around the weapon I had the longest—a ballpoint pen with ancient Greek writing engraved on the side: _Anaklusmos_. Riptide. It may not seem much, but when I uncapped it, it extend into a three foot long sword.

I been mostly practicing my skills as a hero on our apartment roof top, using the Mist to make it look like I was just doing some teenage stuff.

On my bedside was another weapon of mine. Well, not necessarily a weapon. On the outside it looked like your average celestial bronze thermos, but inside was coated with fossilize sea shells that I can use to fire from a jet to a full blast of water straight out of the thermos. It was a gift from my father before I went on my first quest, and it came in handy a few times against the Furies, the Chimera, and a trap Hephaestus had originally set up for his cheating wife Aphrodite and his brother whom she cheats on him with Ares—a long story I rather not relive.

I put Anaklusmos on my nightstand next to my thermos and dragged myself out of bed.

I got dressed as quickly as I could. I tried not to think about my nightmare or _that_ monster or the shadow at my window.

Have to get away. Have to warn them!

What had Grover meant?

I made a three-finger claw over my heart and pushed outward—an ancient gesture Grover once taught me to ward off evil. It mostly works with Nature Spirits, but it comes in handy for me once in a while.

Anyways, I can't let the dream ruin my day. Not yet at least.

Today was the last day of school. My mom was right, I should have been excited. I'd almost made it an entire year without getting expelled. No weird accidents, no fights in the classroom, no monsters attacking me on field trips and trying to kill me. Tomorrow, I'd be on my way to my favorite place in the world—Camp Half-Blood.

If I can just make it through today, I'm solid.

…

My mom made blue waffles and blue eggs for breakfast.

She's funny that way, celebrating special occasions with blue food. I think it's her way of saying anything was possible. Percy can pass the seventh grade. Waffles can be blue. Little miracles like that.

At the kitchen table was my adopted/half-brother Cyclops brother Tyson with his mopped brown hair and single calf-brown eye in the center of his head, wearing his _new_ clothes that my mom bought him with our _emergency_ fund when we adopted him. Although he was big enough to be consider as a teenager, he actually was seven years old, the same age I was when I found out I was a demigod.

I guess I should explained why I have a Cyclops living with us. See it's natural for Olympians to leave their Cyclops children homeless so they can learn how to work with their hands and hopefully find their way to the forges of Olympus, and Tyson's father—my dad: Poseidon—did just that rather reluctantly. Then one day Tyson was attack by a sphinx on the streets, Tyson prayed to Poseidon for help, and just as my dad led me to Thalia and Luke six years ago, he led Tyson to me.

When my mom found out about Tyson's situation, she decided to adopt Tyson as full member of the Jackson family so we can raise him and help guide him to the forges of Olympus. We even had to use the infinite cash on the Lotus Cash Card we save for only educational causes and emergencies to buy Tyson a whole new set of clothes since his old clothes were torn and worn out.

At first I wasn't too keen on having a Cyclopes for a brother. Nothing against Tyson, but I had bad history with Rogues Cyclops—Cyclopes who didn't find their way to the forges and instead starting hunting mortals and demigods for a living—in Brooklyn when I was seven, but as Tyson lived with us the big guy grew on me.

I sat down at my table and started eating with my brother while my mom washed dishes. She was dressed in her work uniform—a starry blue skirt and red-and-white striped blouse she wore to sell candy at Sweet on America. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

Waffles tasted great, but I guess I wasn't digging in like I usually did, because Tyson asked, "Are you okay brother?"

"Yeah… fine."

Tyson might have fallen for that, but not my mom. She always could tell when something was bothering me. She dried her hands and sat down across from me. "School, or…"

She didn't need to finish. I knew what she was asking.

"I think Grover's in trouble," I said, and I told her about my dream, having to explain a few things to Tyson. Thank gods Tyson was smart for his age, otherwise it would take longer.

My mom pursed her lips. "I wouldn't be too worried, dead," she said. "Grover is a big satyr now. If there were a problem, I'm sure we would've heard from… from camp…" Her shoulders tensed as she said the word _camp_.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I tell you what. This afternoon we'll celebrate the end of the school. I'll take you and Tyson to Rockerfeller Center—to that skateboard shop you like.

Oh, man, that was tempting. After swim meets, skateboarding was my second favorite activity. Thanks to the Lotus Cash Cards, we were able to afford a few more special stuff, but not always. But something in her voice bothered me.

"Wait a minute," I said. "I thought we were packing me up for camp tonight."

She twisted her dishrag. "Ah, dear, about that… I got a message from Chiron last night."

My heart sank. Chiron was the activities director at Camp Half-Blood. He wouldn't contact us unless something serious was going on. "What did he say?"

"He thinks… it might not be safe for you to come to camp yet. We might have to postpone."

I bit my lip. "Did something happen to Thalia's tree?"

Six years ago my friend who been like a sister to me, Thalia, gave her life to help Annabeth Grover another friend of ours Luke and me reach camp against the Furies and in return Thalia's father Zeus turned her into a pine tree we nicknamed Thalia's tree. Ever since then Thalia's tree produced a barrier that protected camp from monsters unless they were summoned.

"Percy… I'm sorry. I was hoping to talk to you about it this afternoon. I can't explain it all now. I'm not even sure Chiron can. Everything happened so suddenly."

My mind was reeling. Did something happened to Thalia's tree?

Before I could ask further, the kitchen clock chimed the half-hour.

My mom looked relieved. "Seven-thirty, dear. You and Tyson should go."

"Yay!" Tyson cheered.

"But—"

"Percy, we'll talk this afternoon. Go on to school you two."

"Come on, brother!"

That was the last thing I wanted to do, but my mom had this fragile look in her eyes—a kind of warning, like if I pushed her too hard she'd start to cry.

Tyson and I gathered our stuff, but I stopped in the doorway. "Mom, does my dream about Grover have anything to do with Thalia's tree?"

She wouldn't meet my eyes. "We'll talk this afternoon, dear. I'll explain… as much as I can."

Reluctantly, I told her good-bye. I jogged downstairs with Tyson to catch the Number Two train.

I didn't know it at the time, but my mom and I would never get to have our afternoon talk.

As I stepped outside, I glanced at the brownstone building across the street. Just for a second I saw a dark shape in the morning sunlight—a human silhouette against the brick wall, a shadow that belonged to no one.

Then it rippled and vanished. I been around my friend Annabeth who has a cap of invisibility, and every time she puts it on she vanishes just like that.

 _Could that be Annabeth?_ I thought.

I wasn't for sure, since last I heard Annabeth was in Virginia, but if she was here, then something must be going on.


	2. I Play Dodgeball with Cannibals

**I Play Dodgeball with Cannibals**

My day started normal. Or as normal as it ever gets at Meriwether College Prep with a Cyclops for brother.

See, it's this "progressive" school in downtown Manhattan, which means we sit on beanbag chairs instead of desks, and we don't get grades, and the teachers wear jeans and rock concert T-shirts to work.

It wouldn't bother me so much considering I'm ADHD and dyslexic, but the teachers always looked on the bright side of things, the kids weren't always… well, bright, and although it does have a swim team, the coach doesn't really encourage winning or losing or even no cheating. He just tells us to do our best and do whatever we want.

My first class of the day: English. Instead of having us sit down and do a written test over this book our teachers had the whole middle school read called _Lord of the Flies_ , where all these kids get marooned on an island and go psycho, the teacher had sent us into the break yard to spend an hour with no adult supervision to see what would happened. What happened was a massive wedgie contest between seventh and eighth graders, two pebble fights, and a full-tackle basketball game. The school bully, Matt Sloan, led most of those activities.

Sloan wasn't big or strong, but he acted like he was. He had the eyes like a pit bull, and shaggy black hair, and he always dressed in expensive but sloppy clothes, like he wanted everybody to see how little he cared about his family's money. One of his front teeth was chipped from the time he'd taken his daddy's Porsche for a joyride and run into a PLEASE SLOW DOWN FOR CHILDREN sign.

Despite how tough he acts, I always made an inner joke that if he tried to do that with the Camp Bully at Camp Half-Blood—Clarisse le Rue: Daughter of Ares—she would have his head dunked into a toilet before Sloan can make the first move. I never been through Clarisse's camp initiation since I joined camp before her, but I do know how strong Ares' kids can be.

Anyway, Sloan was giving everybody wedgies until he made the mistake of trying it on Tyson. He had snuck behind Tyson and tried to give him a wedgie, and Tyson panicked. He swatted Sloan away a little too hard. Sloan few fifteen feet and got tangled in the little kids' tire swing.

"You freak!" Sloan yelled, "Why don't you go back to the streets!"

Tyson started sobbing. He sat down on the jungle gym so hard he bent the bar, which is not hard to believe since even if he wasn't a Cyclops Tyson was shaped like Abominable snowman and hasn't controlled his strength. But still, since Tyson grew onto me like a brother I don't take to lightly to Sloan saying such stuff like that.

"That it back, Sloan!" I shouted.

Sloan just sneered at me. "Why do you even bother, Jackson? You might have _friends_ if you weren't always sticking up for that freak."

I balled my fist. I hoped my face wasn't as red as it felt. "That's my _brother_ you're talking about."

Sloan's friends came to his aid to untangled him, which I found odd since he had a half a dozen more goons than usual, and I'm pretty sure I'd never seen them before. That's normally not a good sign.

"Just wait till PE Jackson," Sloan called. "You are _so_ dead."

When first period ended, our English teacher, Mr. de Milo, came outside to inspect the carnage. He pronounced that we'd understood _Lord of the Flies_ perfectly, which I'm pretty sure I know some children of Athena who would argue against it. We passed his course, and we should never, never grow up to be violent people. Matt Sloan nodded earnestly, then gave me a chip-toothed grin.

I had to promise Tyson an extra peanut butter sandwich at lunch to get him to stop sobbing, which worked.

"I… I am a freak?" he asked me.

"No way, Tyson. You're just different and that's nothing to be upset about," I responded.

Tyson gave me such a grateful look. Even after he knew my bad history with Cyclops he never gave me a reason to hate him. So in return, I'm always happy to cheer him up.

…

Our next exam was science. Mrs. Tesla told us that we had to mix chemicals until we succeed in making things explode. Tyson was my lab partner. His hands were way too big for the tiny vials we were supposed to use. He accidentally knocked a tray of chemicals off the counter and made an orange mushroom cloud in the trash can.

After Mrs. Tesla evacuated the lab and called the hazardous waste removal squad, she praised Tyson and me for being natural chemist. We were the first ones who'd ever aced her exam under thirty seconds.

I think I'm going to need a refresher course in Chemistry before I start making Greek Fire.

I was glad the morning went fast, because it kept me from thinking too much about my problems. I couldn't stand the idea that something might be wrong at camp. Even worse, I couldn't shake the memory of my bad dream about Grover being captured, or the fact that Thalia's tree might be if not already in danger. I can't shake this feeling that the two were interconnected.

In social studies, while we were drawing latitude/longitude maps—something I can succeed at even without a proper class, I opened my note to stare at the two photos inside. The first was of fourteen year old Luke, twelve year old Thalia, and seven year old Annabeth and myself standing in my apartment—taken before we left for Camp Half-Blood.

The second one was of Annabeth on vacation in Washington, D.C. She was wearing jeans and a denim jacket over her orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. Her blond hair was pulled back in a bandanna. She was standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial with her arms crossed, looking extremely pleased with herself, like she personally designed the place. See, Annabeth wants to be an architect when she grows up—a dream all children of Athena had and most have succeed—so she always visiting famous monuments and stuff. She's weird that way. She'd e-mailed me the picture after spring break.

Every once in a while I looked at these pictures to remind me of the what my life was before things went downhill—Thalia turning into a tree, which wasn't real bad thing and Luke leaving camp to join the Titan of Time—and that I still have one friend still alive that will be in Camp with me.

I wonder if the person who disappeared across the block, the shadow at my window, was Annabeth. If so, what is going on? Why didn't she just come out and reveal herself? Was it because of Tyson?

Annabeth haven't met Tyson yet, but I'm worried how she's going to take the news of me helping raise a Cyclops. Sure I can hold a grudge as much as Annabeth, but I can forgive easier than Annabeth. Mostly because my fatal flaw is personal loyalty while Annabeth's is Pride. And since Annabeth's is Pride, she tend to be harder to break through than others.

I was about to close my notebook when Matt Sloan reached over and was about to rip out the photos when I quickly slammed my notebook closed.

"What's wrong Jackson? Afraid I would take your precious photos?" Sloan teased.

"Mind your own business, Sloan!" I responded as I glared at him and his buddies.

I guess to mortals they were children with a strange sense of humor visiting because they were wearing name with the names: MARROW SUCKER, SKULL EATER, and JOE BOB. But I didn't want to take any risk. So far I haven't been attacked because of Tyson, but I always knew it was only a matter of time before monsters either find out that Tyson was a big softy or monsters who aren't scared of Cyclops would attack.

"These guys are moving here next year," Sloan bragged, like that was supposed to scare me, "But for today, they gonna help me put you out of your misery next period."

The bell rang.

As Tyson and I were leaving class, a girl's voice whispered, "Percy!"

I looked around the locker area, but nobody was paying me any attention. Like any girl at Meriwether would ever be caught dead calling my name, but there were one girl who can turn invisible that would.

Since P.E. was my next class I quickly decided when was the best time to try and talk to Annabeth.

…

The gym uniform at Meriwether is sky blue shorts and tie-dyed T-shirts. Fortunately, we did most of our athletic stuff inside, so we didn't have to jog through Tribeca looking like a bunch of boot-camp hippie children.

I quckly change as soon as I was in the locker room so I can wait for Tyson to say, "Percy?"

I turned to see that Tyson haven't changed yet as he was standing at the weight room door, clutching his gym clothes. "Will you… uh…"

"Sure, bro," I responded.

Tyson ducked inside the weight room and I stood guard outside the door while he change. Most people would find this awkward but Tyson didn't mean any harm. He just didn't like changing infront of people with all those scars on him. Plus it gave me the chance I need.

"Annabeth, if you're here, listen. Tyson is not a threat, but the big ugly guys with name tags could be. I need you to carry my _pen_ and _thermos_ until I'm certain," I whispered before quickly but quietly saying my gym locker combination.

Soon Tyson was done changing we got into the gym, Coach Nunley was sitting at his little desk reading _Sports Illustrated_. Nunley looked like he was older than he was, with bifocals and no teeth and greasy wave of gray hair.

Matt Sloan said, "Coach, can I be captain?"

"Eh?" Coach Nunley looked up from his magazine. "Yeah," he mumbled. "Mm-hmm."

Sloan grinned and took charge of picking. He made me the other team's captain, but it didn't matter who I picked, because all the jocks and the popular kids moved over to Sloan's side. So did the big group of _visitors_.

On my side I had Tyson, Corey Bailer the computer geek, Raj Mandali the calculus whiz, and a half dozen other kids who always got harassed by Sloan and his gang or—like me—was outcast jocks.

Normally I would've been okay with just Tyson and the outcasted jocks, but those _visitors_ were really giving my creeps. I turned to Tyson.

"Hey Tyson do you smell anything off about our _visitors?_ " I asked.

Like all monsters and satyrs, Tyson has a super sense of smell that can even sniff out monsters.

"Scarred," Tyson mumbled. "Smell funny."

"How so?" I asked.

"Smell funny."

The _visitors_ were cracking their knuckles, eyeing us like it was slaughter time. Matt Sloan spilled a cage full of balls in the middle of the gym.

Sloan blew the coach's whistle and the game began. Sloan's team ran for the center line. On my side Raj Mandali yelled something in Urdu and ran for the exit. Corey Bailer tried to crawl behind the wall mat and hide. The rest of my team did their best to cower in fear and not look like targets.

I dodge multiple dodgeballs that hit the floor and mat with so much force it echoed through the gym. If it wasn't for all the hero training I had, I would have been knocked unconscious.

The visitor named Joe Bob grinned at me evilly. Somehow, he looked bigger now… even taller than Tyson. His biceps bulged beneath his T-shirt. "You're dead, Perseus Jackson!"

The way he said my name sent chill down my back. Only my friend and enemies call me by Perseus.

The _visitors_ were growing in size. They were no longer kids. They were eight-foot-tall giants with wild eyes, pointy teeth, and hairy arms tattooed with snakes and hula women and Valentin hearts.

Laistrygonian Giants. They were the monster-cannibal type type of giants that Odysseus had to deal with them on his way home to Ithica. During the Western Civilization movement they moved to Canada, and almost never move south. Only these days, mortals call them by the name: Big Foot. I don't know why how it was possible but apparently the Big Foot legend started because of a mortal encounter with a Laistrygonian Giant.

Matt Sloan dropped his ball when he saw something. "Whoa! You're not from Detroit! Who…"

The other kids on his team started screaming and backing toward the exit, but the giant named Marrow Sucker threw a ball with deadly accuracy. It streaked past Raj Mandali just as he was about to leave and hit the door, slamming it shut like magic. Raj and some other kids banged on it desperately but it wouldn't budge.

"Let them go!" I yelled at the giants.

The one called Joe Bob growled at me. He had a tattoo on his bicep that said: _JB luvs Babycakes._ "And lose our tasty morsels? No, Son of the Sea God. We Laistrygonians aren't just playing for your death. We want lunch!

Typical Cannibal Giant.

He waved his hand and a new batch of dodgeballs appeared on the center line—but these balls weren't made of red rubber. They were bronze, the size of cannon balls, perforated like wiffle balls with fire bubbling out the holes.

We were in trouble.

"Play nice," Coach muttered not even looking up.

Seriously? Most mortals would look up at this point.

The giant named Skull Eater threw his ball I dove aside as the fiery bronze comet sailed past my shoulder at Corey Bailey. Fortunately Tyson pull him behind the exercise mat just as the ball exploded against it, blasting the mat to smoking shreds and creating a hole in the wall.

"Run!" I told my teammates. "The other exit!"

They ran of the locker room, but with another wave of Joe Bob's hand, that door also slammed shut.

"No one leaves unless you're out!" Joe Bob roared. "And you're not out until we eat you!"

He launched his own fireball. My teammates scattered as it blasted the crater in the gym floor.

"Percy!" A voice yelled as two items were thrown at me. I caught both and looked to see it was Riptide—in it's pen form and my thermos.

 _My thermos—perfect,_ I thought.

I uncapped my thermos and focus my power into it, causing the churning feeling in my stomach. Just as a fiery ball was coming at me, my thermos fired a blast of water at it causing an explosion.

Two ball came at me and I didn't have time to fire another water blast. Tyson jumped in the way and caught both balls without being burned. I never thought I would say this but thank gods for Cyclops' natural immunity to fire.

"Tyson! Throw it back!" I responded.

Tyson nodded and threw them back at Skull Eater and Marrow sucker. It hit the two giants in the chest and exploded causing them to disintegrated in twin columns of flame.

"My brothers!" Joe Bob wailed. He flexed his muscles and his _Babycakes_ tattoo rippled. "You will pay for their destruction!"

He threw another comet-ball at Tyson and I fired a blast of water from my Thermos at the ball causing it to exploded.

Kids were running around screaming, trying to avoid sizzling craters in the floor. Others were banging on the door, calling for help. Sloan himself stood petrified in the middle of the court, watching in disbelief as balls of death flew around him. And of course Coach Nunley was doing nothing. In fact, every time the balls exploded, he just tapped his hearing aid like it was giving off interference but he kept his eyes on his magazine.

"Victory will be ours!" Joe Bob the Cannibal. "We will feast on your bones!"

He hefted another ball and the other three giants followed his lead. Suddenly Joe Bob went rigid as a knife had just run him through behind before he disintegrated in a green flame.

Standing in the smoke was my childhood friend, Annabeth. Her face was grimy and scratched. She had a ragged backpack slung over her shoulder, her baseball cap tucked in her pocket, her bronze knife in her hand, and a wild look in her storm-gray eyes. She probably been chased by monsters since I last heard from her.

Instead of getting excited, I decided now was the time to deal with the other giants. "Tyson now!" I yelled as I focus my power into the Thermos and send another blast of water. The Giant didn't get the time to throw due to its confusion as the water blast hit the ball and caused an explosion that disintegrated him. Tyson used the time punched the last giant so hard he crumbled as well.

Matt Sloan, who'd been standing there dumbfounded the whole time finally came to his senses only to get punched in the nose by Annabeth.

"Stay away from my friend," She warned in a way that told me she been wanting to say that all day.

The gym was in flames. Kids were still running around screaming. I heard sirens wailing and a garbled voice over the intercom. Through the glass windows of the exit doors, I could see the headmaster, Mr. Bonsai, wrestling with the lock, a crowd of teachers piling up behind him.

Finally they got the doors open and the adults came pouring in."

"Meet me outside," Annabeth told me. "And him." She pointed to Tyson while giving him an expected distasteful look. "You better bring him."

She put on her Yankees baseball cap and instantly vanished.

That left me and Tyson standing alone in the middle of the burning gymnasium when the headmaster came charging in with half the faculty and a couple of police officers."

"Percy Jackson?" Mr. Bonsai said. "What… how…"

Matt Sloan was coming around. He focus on me with a look of terror. With a quick snap of my fingers and some Mist Manipulation I had put an image of the _visitors_ being pyromaniacs that set the gym on fire on Matt and everyone else that saw things.

While they were in a daze, I signal Tyson to come with me as we head through the hole on the side of the building.


	3. We Hail The Taxi of Eternal Torment

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Hail The Taxi of Eternal Torment**

Annabeth was waiting for us in an alley down Church Street. She pulled Tyson and me off the sidewalk just as a fire truck screamed past, heading for Meriwether Prep.

"Where did you find _him_?" she demanded, pointing at Tyson.

"I didn't, he found my mom and me," I responded.

 _"What?"_ Annabeth responded.

"Tyson was getting bullied on the streets and instead of fending for himself, he prayed to our dad for help and dad led him to me," I responded.

"Our dad—you mean."

"Yes, he's a son of Poseidon, and my mom adopted him so he's also part of the Jackson family," I responded, "Look, I didn't like it at first either, but like I said earlier, Tyson means no harm. If he did, you think _my mom_ would have adopted him?"

Annabeth glared for a bit. "Fine!"

I relaxed hearing it. Despite any grudges she can hold, Annabeth knew better than question my mom's trust in people. After all, my mom is one of the few mortals who could see through the Mist.

Tyson seemed fascinated by Annabeth's blond hair. "You're pretty," he said as he tried to touch it. On instincts, Annabeth smacked his hand away.

"Don't take it the wrong way, Big Guy. She was with me when I had that encounter with the _bad_ _cyclops_ ," I told Tyson, "Just give her time to get use to you."

Tyson nodded.

"So Annabeth, why didn't you contact me when you came into the city?" I asked.

"Chiron told me not too," Annabeth responded.

"Chiron… does it have to do with Thalia's tree?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Annabeth replied. "Have you had any strange dreams?"

"Only about Grover," I replied.

Her face turned pale. "What about Grover.

I told her about my dream and it didn't improve the mood at all, but that was expected.

A siren wailed. A police car raced past our alley.

"We don't have time for this," Annabeth said. "We'll talk in the taxi."

"I'm not going anywhere without Tyson," I responded.

"Percy—"

"He's scared to ride the subways and without any way home, he'll be in more danger now than he would be in the subways," I responded.

Annabeth sighed and pinched her nose. "Fine, we'll take him with us. Now come on."

We followed her out of the alley way.

…

"Here." Annabeth sopped us on the corner of Thomas and Trimble. She fished around in her backpack. "I hope I have one left."

She looked even worse than I'd realize at first. Her chin was cut. Twigs and grass were tangled in her ponytail. There were claw marks on the hem of her jeans. If I didn't know better, I would think she been sleeping on the ground, but considering Thalia Luke and Annabeth and I had built hideouts from Virginia up to Manhattan, I have my doubts.

All around us, sirens wailed. I figured it wouldn't be long before more cops cruised by, looking for whoever bombed Meriwether Prep's Gym.

"Found one. Thank gods." Annabeth pulled out a cold coin that I recognized as a drachma, the currency of Mount Olympus. It had Zeus' likeness stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other.

No mortal taxi would take a drachma, but I do know one immortal taxi ride that does.

 _"Stêthi,"_ she shouted in Ancient Greek. _"Ô hárma diabolês!"_

As usual, the moment she spoke the language of Olympus, I understood it. She'd said: _Chariot of Damnation!1_

She threw her coin into the street, but instead of clattering on the asphalt, the drachma sank right through and disappeared.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, just where the coin had fallen, the asphalt darkened. It melted into a rectangular pool about the size of a parking space—bubbling red liquid like blood. Then the car erupted from the ooze.

It was a taxi, all right, but unlike every other taxi in New York, it wasn't yellow. It was smoky gray. I mean it looked like it was _woven_ out of smoke, like you could walk right through it. There were word printed on the door, but I heard enough of how the ancient Greek modernize with western civilization to know it belonged to the Gray Sisters.

The same Gray sisters who shares one eye. The same one who my name-sake Perseus tricked into giving him info on the location of the armor and weapons he need to slay Medusa. The same Gray sisters who helped Jason of the Argonauts. And now they were greedy taxi drivers who will transport Demigods around Greater New York and surrounding communities.

The passenger window rolled down, and an old woman stuck her head out. She had a mop of grizzled hair covered her face, and she spoke in a weird mumbling way, like she'd just had a shot of Novacain. "Passage? Passage?"

"Three to Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth said. She opened the cab's back door.

"Ach!" the old woman screeched. "We don't take _his_ kind!"

She pointed a bony finger at Tyson.

"Extra pay," Annabeth promised. "Three more drachma on arrival."

"Done!" the woman screamed.

What did I tell you? Greedy.

Reluctantly I got in the cab. Tyson squeezed in the middle. Annabeth crawled in last.

The interior was also smoky gray, but it felt solid enough. The seat was cracked and lumpy—no different from most taxis. There was no Plexiglas screen separating us from the Gray sisters—all looking the same and had the hair the same style, making it hard to figure out which one had the eye.

The one driver said, "Long Island! Out of metro fare bonus! Ha!"

She floored the accelerator, and my head slammed against the backrest. A prerecorded voice came on over the speaker: _Hi, this is Ganymede, cup-bearer to Zeus, and when I'm out buying wine for the Lord of the Skies, I always buckle up!_

That would be hard to do since the seat belt was actually black chains.

The cab sped around the corner to West Broadway, and the gray lady sitting in the middle screeched, "Look out! Go left!"

"Well, if you give me the eye, Tempest, I could _see_ that!" the driver complained.

Great, the driver doesn't have the eye.

The driver swerved to avoid an oncoming delivery truck, ran over the curb with a jaw-rattling _thump_ , and flew into the next block.

"Wasp!" the third lady said to the driver. "Give me the girl's coin! I want to bite it."

"You bit it last time, Anger!" said the driver—Wasp. "It's my turn!"

"Is not!" yelled the one called Anger.

The middle one, Tempest, screamed, "Red lgith!"

"Brake!"

Instead, Wasp floored the accelerator and rode up on the curb, screeching around another corner, and knocking over a newspaper box.

Tyson groaned and grabbed the seat. "Not feeling so good."

"Oh, man," I said, because I'd seen Tyson get carsick on school field trips and it was _not_ something you wanted to be within fifty feet of. "Hang in there, bro. Anybody got a garbage bag or something?"

The Gray sisters were too busy squabbling to pay me any attention. It makes me glad we didn't know about how to call on it six years ago.

"Oh don't worry," Anger said, "We had famous people in this cab! Jason! You remember him?"

"Don't remind me!" Wasp wailed. "And we didn't have a cab back then, you old bat. That was three thousand years ago!"

"Give me the tooth!" Anger tried to grab at Wasp's mouth, but Wasp swatted her hand away.

"Only if Tempest gives me the eye!"

"No!" Tempest screeched. "You had it yesterday!"

"But I'm driving, you old hag!"

"Excuses! Turn! That was your turn!"

Wasp swerved hard onto Delancey Street, squishing me between Tyson and the door. She punched the gas and we shot up the Williamsburg Bridge at seventy miles an hour.

The three sisters were fighting for real now, slapping each other as Anger tried to grab Wasp's face and Wasp tried to grab at Tempest. With their hair flying and their mouths open, screaming at each other. Through you could tell only Wasp had one mossy yellow incisor, and only Anger had one blood shot green eye. The rest had no teeth and sunken eyelids.

Finally Anger, who had the advantage of sight, manage to yank the tooth out of her sister Wasp's mouth. This made Wasp so mad she swerved toward the edge of the Williamsburg Bridge, yelling, "'Ivit back! 'Ivid back!"

Tyson groaned and clutched his stomach.

The gray sisters were suppose to be very wise, all knowing, and yet this was ridiculous.

"Don't worry!" Anger grinned in the rearview mirror, showing off her newly acquired tooth. "We know things!"

"Every street in Manhattan!" Wasp bragged, still hitting her sister. "The capital of Nepal!"

"The location you seek!" Tempest added.

Immediately her sisters pummeled her from either side, screaming, "Be quiet! Be quiet! He didn't even ask yet!"

"What?" I said. "What location? I'm not seeking any—"

"Nothing!" Tempest said. "You're right, boy. It's nothing!"

"Tell me."

"No!" they all screamed.

"The last time we told, it was horrible!" Tempest said.

"Eye tossed in a lake!" Anger agreed.

"Years to find it again!" Wasp moaned. "And speaking of that—give it back!"

"No!" yelled Anger.

"Eye!" Wasp yelled. "Gimme!"

She whacked her sister Anger on the back. There was a sickening _pop_ and something flew out of Anger's face. Anger fumbled for it, trying to catch it, but she only managed to bat it with the back of her hand. The slimy green orb sailed over her shoulder, into the backseat, straight into my lap.

I was so surprised jumped so hard, my head hit the ceiling and the eyeball rolled away.

"I can't see!" all three sisters yelled.

"Give me the eye!" Wasp wailed.

"Give her the eye!" Annabeth screamed.

"I don't have it!" I said.

"There, by your foot," Annabeth said. "Don't step on it! Get it!"

The taxi slammed against the guard rail and skidded along with a horrible grinding noise. The whole car shuddered, billowing gray smoke as if it were about to dissolve from the strain.

"Annabeth, hold my thermos for me."

"Okay."

"I'm going to be sick."

Wasp yanked the wheel, and the taxi swerved away from the rail. We hurtled down the bridge toward Brooklyn, going faster than any human taxi. The Gray Sisters screeched and pummeled each other and cried out for their eye.

I passed Annabeth my thermos since I had to hold it and Riptide. I ripped off the sleeve of my t-shirt and used it to pick up the eyeball.

"Nice boy!" Anger cried, as if she somehow knew I had her missing peeper. "Give it back!"

"Not until you explain," I told her. "What were you talking about, the location I seek?"

"No time!" Tempest. "Accelerating!"

I looked out the window. Sure enough, trees and cars and whole neighborhoods were now zipping by in a gray blur. We were already out of Brooklyn, heading through the middle of Long Island.

"Percy," Annabeth warned, "they can't find our destination without the eye. We'll just keep accelerating until we break into a million pieces."

"First they have to tell me," I said. "Or I'll open the window and throw the eye into oncoming traffic."

"No!" the Gray Sisters wailed. "Too dangerous!"

"I'm rolling down the window."

"Wait!" the Gray Sisters screamed. "30, 31, 75, 12!"

 _30, 31, 75, 12? They sound like longitude and latitude,_ I thought.

"That's all we can tell you. Now give us the eye! Almost to camp!"

We were off the highway now, zipping through the countryside of northern Long Island. I could see Half-Blood Hill ahead of us, with Thalia's tree at the crest, which contained the life force of my friend.

"Here!" I said tossing it to Wasp.

The old lady snatch it up, pushed it into her eye socket like somebody putting a contact lens, and blinked. "Whoa!"

She slammed on the brakes. The taxi spun four of five times in a cloud of smoke and squealed to a halt in the middle of the farm road at the base of Half-Blood Hill.

Tyson let loose a huge belch. "Better now."

At the crest of the hill was a group of campers. And they were under attack.

Annabeth opened the door and we got out, but not before I advised. "Word of Advice, if you're going to take turns using your eye, then take turns driving. The sister with the eye should drive."

I got out of the taxi, without hearing what the sisters have to say about it.

* * *

 **A/N:**

1\. _Chariot of Damnation_ is the ancient Greek name of the Gray Sisters Transportation.


	4. We Fight Two Colchis Bulls

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Fight Two Cochis Bulls**

Bulls. Why did it have to be bulls? Last summer I fought the Minotaur on the top of Half-Blood Hill. This time what I saw up there was worse: two bronze, mechanical, automaton, elephant size bulls. And even _that_ wasn't bad enough. Naturally they had to breathe fire, too. Cochis Bulls, one of the few Automaton inventions of Hephaestus that went haywire.

As soon as we got out of the taxi and I gave the Gray sisters advice, they peeled out, heading back to New York, where life was safer. Thy didn't even wait for their extra three-drachma payment. They just left us on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, me with my pen-sword and thermos, and Tyson with nothing but the clothes on his back—which was our gym clothes.

"Oh, man," said Annabeth, looking at the battle raging at the hill.

What worried me most weren't the bulls themselves. Or the ten heroes in full battle armor who were getting their bronze-plated butts whooped. What worried me was that the bulls were ranging all over the hill, even around the backside of Thalia's tree. That shouldn't have been possible. The camp's magical barrier was powered by Thalia's spirit. But the metal bulls were getting pass her tree.

"One of the heroes shouted, "Border patrol, to me!"

That was Clarisse—daughter of Ares. Although the camp bully, she was one of the strongest fighters in camp. And for her to be leading a boarder control—which the camp haven't needed since Thalia's sacrifice—well, it doesn't take much figure out that something more was going on than two fire-breathing mechanical bulls.

Right now, her fellow warriors were scattering, running in panic as the bulls charged. The grass was burning in huge swathes around Thalia's tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, the horsehair plume on his helmet blazing like a fiery Mohawk. Clarisse's own armor was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

I uncapped Riptide. It shimmered, growing longer and heavier until I held the bronze sword in my hands. "Tyson follow my order and stay safe," I said.

Tyson nodded.

Annabeth and I ran up the hill toward Clarisse, who was yelling at her patrol, trying to get them into phalanx formation. It was a good idea. The few who were listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking their shields to form an ox-hide-and-bronze wall, their spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills.

Unfortunately, Clarisse could only muster six campers. The other four were still running around with their helmets on fire. I dug my sword into the ground, uncapped my thermos, and summoned a strong yet not too powerful jet of water over each of the camper's helmets—extinguishing the flames. Meanwhile Annabeth tried to taunt one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible, confusing the monster. The other bull charged Clarisse's line.

The bull moved deadly fast for something so big. It metal hide gleamed in the sun. It had fist-sized rubies for eyes, and horns of polished silver. When it opened its hinge mouth, a column of white hot flame blasted out.

"Hold the line!" Clarisse ordered her warriors.

Whatever else you could say about Clarisse, she was brave. She was a big girl with cruel eyes like her father's. She looked like she was born to wear Greek battle armor, but I didn't see how even she could stand against that bull's charge.

The bull charged forward and manage to knock over many of Clarisse's Warriors but Clarisse manage to hold her ground before being knocked over herself.

Unfortunately the second bull lost interest in Annabeth and wheeled around toward Clarisse. I didn't have a chance to get there in time, but Tyson was. The only problem was that he couldn't get passed the barrier unlike the Cochis Bulls.

"I, Percy Jackson, give the Cyclopes Tyson Jackson permission the entrance!" I yelled.

Thunder shook the hillside. Suddenly Tyson was on the other side.

"Tyson stop the second bull!" I yelled.

Tyson nodded and lumbered forward.

Meanwhile I moved toward Clarisse who was still dealing with the first bull.

I uncapped my thermos and summoned another Water Blast at the First bull. It didn't do much damage, but it did get it's undivided attention as it came at me. I duck and rolled away, avoiding the Bull. Then I took out Riptide and lopped off the nose.

As the Bull moved around disoriented Clarisse use the time to impale the back leg with her Celestial Bronze where. That snlowed it down and made the bull go in circles.

I looked toward Tyson balled his fist and slammed them into the Bull's face. "BAD COW!"

His fist made a crater where the bronze bull's snout used to be. Two small columns of flame shot out of its ears. Tyson hit it again and the bronze crumbled under his hands like aluminum foil. The bull's face now looked like a sock puppet pulled inside out.

"Down!" Tyson yelled.

The bull staggered and fell on it's back. Its legs moved feebly in the air, steam coming out of its ruined head in odd places. Annabeth was checking over the injured warriors.

Either way, the battle was over.

"Jackson!"

At least the battle with the bulls.

Clarisse pulled off her helmet and marched toward us. A strand of her stringy brown hair was smoldering, but she didn't seem to notice. "You—ruin—everything!" she yelled at me. "I had it under control."

"What are you mad about? You took the bull down," I responded.

"Argh!" Clarisse screamed. "Don't ever, EVER try saving me again!"

"Clarisse!" Annabeth yelled from where she was helping the other campers, "If you're done blaming Percy for helping you, you've got wounded campers."

That sobered her up. Even Clarisse cared about the soldiers under her command.

"I'll be back," she growled, then trudged off to assess the damage.

"You okay?" I asked Tyson who just lumbered toward me.

Tyson nodded. "Mean girl scares me."

I held back my laugh. "Don't worry about it, big guy. At least Clarisse isn't as intimidating as her father."

"I heard that!" Clarisse yelled, "If you can talk, Jackson, you can help us carry the wounded back to the Big House. I'll let Tantalus know what happened?"

"Tantalus—as in the child-eater Tantalus?" I asked.

"Yeah, Mr. D brought him back from the Fields of Punishment to be our activities director!"

I'm confused now. "What about Chiron? Where's Argus?"

Clarisse made a sour face. "Argus and Chiron been fired. You two have been gone too long. Things are changing."

"What do you mean? What happened?" I asked.

" _That_ happened," Clarisse snapped.

She pointed to Thalia's tree.

I turned and my eyes widened. I guess I was too busy fighting Cochis Bulls to noticed it, but I still kick myself for not. The needles on Thalia's tree were yellow. A huge pile of dead ones littered the base of the tree. In the center of the trunk, three feet from the ground, was a puncture mark the size of a bullet hole, oozing green sap.

A sliver of ice ran through my chest. Thalia: the girl who helped look after me and take me home, who been like a sister to me, who gave her life fighting the Kindly Ones so Luke Annabeth Grover and me could make it to camp, the girl who's father turned her into a tree with a magical border that protected our camp; her tree was dying.

Someone had poisoned it.


	5. I Meet the Child-Eater: Tantalus

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **I Meet the Child-Eater**

Ever come home and found your room messed up? Like some helpful person (hi, Mom) has tried to "clean" it, and suddenly you can't find anything? And even if nothing is missing, you get that creepy feeling like somebody's been looking through your private stuff and dusting everything with lemon furniture polish?

That's kind of the way I felt seeing Camp Half-Blood again.

On the surface, things didn't look all that different. The Big House was still there with its blue gabled roof and its wraparound porch. The strawberry fields still baked in the sun. The same white columned Greek Buildings were scattered around the valley—the amphitheater, the combat arena, the dining pavilion overlooking Long Island Sound. And nestled between the woods and the creek were the same cabins—a crazy assortment of twelve buildings, each representing a different Olympian god.

But there was an air of danger now. You could tell something was wrong. Instead of playing volleyball in the sandpit, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed behind Athena's Cabin. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. The forest looked sickly, the grass in the meadow was pale yellow, and the fire marks on Half-Blood Hill stood out like ugly scars.

Somebody had poisoned one of my closest friends and messed with my favorite place in the world, and I was not a happy camper.

My guess it had to happen _after_ the winter solstice meeting since things were normal beforehand. I attended the meeting to make sure no one tried to frame me for anything that happened there. But what happened after the meeting was out of my control. Tyson stayed with my mom for the meeting, but some of the campers that attended that met up with me met Tyson.

As we made our way to the Big House, I recognized a lot of kids from the Winter Solstice meeting and last summer. Nobody stopped to talk. Nobody said, "Welcome back." Those that haven't got the chance to meet Tyson during the Winter Solstice double takes when they saw him, but most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties—running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels.

None of that mattered to Tyson. He was absolutely fascinated by everything he saw. "Whasthat!" he gasped.

"The tables for pegasi," I said, "The winged horses."

"Whasthat!"

"Um… those are the toilets."

"Whasthat!"

"The cabins for the campers. If they don't know who your Olympian parent is, or if you're a child of a minor god or goddess, they put you in the Hermes cabin—that brown one over there—until you're determined. Then, once they know and if you're a child of an Olympian that has a cabin here, they put you in your dad or mom's group."

He looked at me in awe. "You… have a _cabin_?"

"Number three," I pointed to a low gray building made of sea stone.

"You live with friends in the cabin?"

"Before you, no. I'm the only half-blood demigod son of Poseidon. But if you're allowed to stay here, you can stay with me," I responded.

"Really?" Tyson asked.

"Yeah. You're a son of Poseidon, after all," I replied.

 _If not, I'll Iris-Message mom to pick Tyson up,_ I thought.

Now that I think of it, Tantalus was the half-blood son of Zeus as well. A shiver went down my back and decided not to think about it. I didn't want to think that Thalia was related to the man who fed his own children to the Olympians thousands of years ago.

When we got to the Big House, we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags. I guess I should mention—Chiron is a centaur. From the waist up he looks like a regular middle-aged guy with curly brown hair and a scraggy beard. From the waist down, he's a white stallion. He can pass for human by compacting his lower half into a magic wheelchair.

As soon as we saw him, Tyson froze. "Pony!" he cried in total rapture.

Chiron turned, looking offended. "I beg your pardon?"

Annabeth ran up and hugged him. "Chiron, what's happening? You're not… leaving?" Her voice was shaky and I don't blame her. Chiron been like a second father to the two of us since we were seven years old. Even me, who been aware that my dad been watching over me and cared for me, saw Chiron as a second father.

Chiron ruffled her hair and gave her a kindly smile. "Hello, child. And Percy, my goodness. You've grown some more since the winter solstice."

I swallowed. "Clarisse said you were… you were…"

"Fired." Chiron's eyes glinted with dark humor. "Ah, well, someone had to take the blame. Lord Zeus was most upset. The tree he'd created from the spirit of his daughter, poisoned!" Mr. D had to punish someone."

"Besides himself, you mean," I growled.

"But this is crazy!" Annabeth cried. "Chiron, you couldn't have had anything to do with poisoning Thalia's tree."

"Nevertheless," Chiron sighed. "Some in Olympus do not trust me now, under the circumstances."

"Because you're the Titan Lord's son?" I asked getting a nod, "That's ridiculous! The Big Three, not to mention Hera, Demeter, and Hestia, are his children too."

The room shook at the mentioning of the names.

"Maybe so, Percy. But some Olympians have blame me for Luke's betrayal," Chiron responded. "Hermes especially, for reasons I believe you can understand Percy."

I opened my mouth but couldn't find the words to say. Twenty years ago, after Luke was born, Luke's mom May Castellan decided to take the roll of Oracle, and Hermes took her to camp Half-Blood hoping Chiron can help him talk her out of it. However, neither Hermes nor Chiron wasn't able to convince her and May still tried to take on the spirit of Delphi and instead of becoming an Oracle, she lost her sanity.

I wouldn't be surprise right now Hermes blamed me for Luke's betrayal as well. After all, I had many opportunities to tell Luke what really happened to his mother but I never took the chance. I still blame myself for not telling Luke the truth, thinking that if I did maybe Luke wouldn't have listened to Kronos.

Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement. He whimpered like he wanted to pat Chiron's flank but was afraid to come closer. "Pony?"

Chiron sniffed. "My dear young Cyclops! I am a _centaur_."

"Chiron," I said. "What about Thalia's tree? What happened?"

He shook his head sadly. "The poison used on Thalia's pine is something from the Underworld, Percy. Some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus. As I said earlier, I am being held responsible because I did not prevent it and sadly, I can cannot cure it. The tree has only a few weeks of life left unless…"

"Unless what?" Annabeth and I asked.

"No," Chiron said. "A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the shock from the poison. The magical borders are deteriorating. The camp itself is dying. Only one source of magic would be strong enough to reverse the poison, and it was lost centuries ago."

"What _is_ it?" I asked. "We'll go find it!"

Chiron closed his saddlebag. He pressed the stop button on his boom box. Then he turned and rested his hand on my shoulder, looking me straight in the eyes. "Percy, you must promise me that you will _not_ act rashly. I told your mother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It's much too dangerous. But now that you are here, _stay_ here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave."

"Chiron, I been training for six years!" I responded. "Thalia is one of my best friends, she been like a sister to me! If there's anyway to save her tree, I want to help."

"I know you would want to," Chiron responded, "But that's also the problem."

I wanted to argue, but again I was left speechless. Chiron was talking about my hero's flaw: Personal Loyalty. Whenever a friend of mine or family was in danger, no matter how rational I tried to be, I can't help but do what I can to make sure they're safe in the end.

Last summer I made an oath on the styx to Hades while confronting that I would return the helm to him for my mother, and then—in order to keep that promise—I made another oath to Ares that if I win he return to Helm and face Zeus for his actions if I beat him in a sword fight and nearly lost cause of it.

"You must not let yourself be baided into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life."

How can I forgot. I still had the scar on my hand where the pit scorpion stung me. But the poisoning on Thalia's tree wasn't from a Pit Scorpion. If it was, Chiron would have been able to cure it like he cured me.

Annabeth was trying hard not to cry. Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek. "Stay with Percy, child," he told her. "Keep him safe. The prophecy—remember it!"

"I—I will."

I had a feeling what prophecy it was. A few years ago, after Luke failed his quest, Annabeth went to the attic—on her own since at the time I was scared of the Oracle—and when she came down she wasn't the same way around me again.

"Chiron…" Annabeth said. "You told us the gods made you immortal only as long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—"

"Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger," he insisted. "Swear upon the River Styx."

"I—I swear it upon the River Styx," Annabeth said.

Thunder rumbled outside.

"Very well," Chiron said. He seemed to relax just a little. "Perhaps my name will be cleared and I shall return. Until then, I go to visit my wild kinsmen in the Everglades. It's possible they know of some cure for the poisoned tree that I have forgotten. In any event, I will stay in exile until this matter is resolved… one way or another.

Annabeth stifled a sob. Even I was trying to hold back my tears.

"There, now, children. I must entrust your safety to Mr. D and the new activities director."

"To Tantalus the Child-eater," I murmured.

"Yes well… hopefully he won't destroy the camp as quickly as I fear," Chiron responded.

A conch horn blew across the valley. I hadn't realized how late it was. It was time for campers to assemble for dinner.

"Go," Chiron said. "I will contact your mother, Percy, and let her know you're safe. No doubt she'll be worried by now. Just remember my warning! You are in grave danger. Do not think for a moment that the titan lord has forgotten!"

With that, he clopped out of the apartment and down the hall, Tyson calling him, "Pony! Don't go!"

I realized I'd forgotten to tell Chiron about my dream of Grover. Now it was too late.

Tyson started bawling almost as bad as Annabeth. Even I was shedding tears at this point.

"Come on guys," I said, "We're going to be late for Dinner."

…

The sun was setting behind the dining pavilion as campers came up from their cabins. We stood in the shadow of a marble column and watched them file in. Annabeth was still pretty shaken up, but she promised she'd talk to us later. She gave me my beaded necklace as well.

"I retrieved it from your locker. I figured you want it," Annabeth said.

"Thanks," I responded as I put it around my neck.

Then she went off join her siblings from Athena cabin—a dozen boys and girls with blond hair and gray eyes like hers. Annabeth wasn't the oldest, but like me, we'd been at camp more summers than just about anybody. You could tell that by looking at our camp necklace—one bead for every summer, and both Annabeth and I had six. Cause of it, Annabeth earned the right to lead Cabin Six.

Next came Clarisse, leading the Ares cabin. She had one arm in a sling and a nasty-looking gash on her cheek, but otherwise her encounter with the bronze bulls didn't seem to have fazed her. Someone—most likely one of Hermes' kids—had taped a piece of paper on her back that said, YOU MOO, GIRL! But nobody in her cabin was bothering to tell her about it.

After the Ares kids came the Hephaestus cabin—which had grown to six campers—led by Charles Beckendorf, a big fifteen-year-old African American kid. He had hands the size of catcher's mitts and a face that was hard and squinty from looking into a blacksmith's forge all day. He was nice enough once you get to know him, but no one ever called him Charlie or Chuck or Charles. Most just call him Beckendorf. Rumor was he could make anything.

Katie Gardner came in with her siblings in Demeter's cabin, a bunch of kids with brown hair and brown eyes. Like their mother they had the power to control plants. They're mostly in charge of growing and picking strawberries for the camp fund.

Then came Lee Fletcher with his siblings from Apollo Cabin—a bunch of archers with sunny blond hair and blue eyes. I sometimes wonder if that's how Halcyon Green looked like when he was their age.

Next was Aphrodite cabin, filled with the camp's most girliest girls and boys. They were led by fifteen year old Silena Beauregard. Unlike most of her siblings, Silena was actually the most active camper in camp, participating in some of the lessons and even teach Pegasus ridding class. Although she say I should teach it since I'm such a _natural_ at it being a son of Poseidon, but I stuck to teaching sword fighting with Luke—although now, I'm the only sword fighting teacher in camp.

Then there was Dionysus' twin sons—two plump blond boys name Castor and Pollux—followed by Naiads, Dryads, and Satyrs. Castor and Pollux help Demeter Cabin with the strawberry fields since they had powers over vine plants. Despite being plumped, they were pretty good athletes, and unlike their father, I actually get along with them.

After the satyrs filled in to dinner, the Hermes Cabin brought up the rear. They were the biggest cabin. Last summer, it had been led by Luke. Now it was led by Travis and Conor Stoll. They weren't twins, but they looked so much a like it didn't matter. I could never remember which one was older. They were both tall and skinny, with mops of brown hair that hung in their eyes. They wore orange CAMP HALFBLOOD T-shirts untucked over baggy shorts, and they had those elfish features all Hermes' kids had: upturned eyebrows, sarcastic smiles, a gleam in their eyes whenever they looked at you—like they were about to drop a firecracker down your shirt.

As soon as the last campers filed in, I led Tyson into the middle of the pavilion. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. "Who invited _that_?" somebody at the Apollo table murmured.

I glared in their direction, but I couldn't figure out who'd spoken.

From the head table a familiar voice drawled, "Well, well, if it isn't Peter Johnson. My millennium is complete."

I gritted my teeth. "…sir."

Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke. He was wearing his usual leopard-pattern Hawaiian shirt, walking shorts, and tennis shoes with black socks. His pudgy belly and his blotchy red face was the same as always. Behind him, a nervous-looking satyr was peeling the skins off grapes and handing them to Mr. D one at the time.

Mr. D's real name is Dionysus. The god of wine. Zeus appointed him camp director of Camp Half-Blood to dry out for a hundred years—a punishment for chasing some off-limits wood nymphs.

Next to him, where Chiron usually stood in centaur form was a pale, horribly thin man in a threadbare orange prisoner jumpsuit. The number of his pocket read 0001. He had blue shadows under his eyes, dirty fingernails, and badly cut gray hair, like his last haircut had been done with a weed whacker. He stared at me as if he was angry, frustrated, and hungry all at the same time.

"This boy," Dionysus told him, "you need to watch. Poseidon's child's child, you know."

"Ah!" the prisoner said. "That one."

His tone made it obvious that he and Dionysus had already discuss me at length.

"I am Tantalus," the prisoner said, smiling coldly. "On special assignment here until, well, until my Lord Dionysus decides otherwise. And you, Perseus Jackson, I _do_ expect you to refrain from causing any more trouble."

"Trouble?"

Dionysus snapped his fingers. A newspaper appeared on the table—the front page of today's _New York Post_. There was my yearbook picture from Meriwether Prep. I had a feeling it had to do with the Laistrygonian Giant Dodgeball incident.

"Yes, trouble," Tantalus said with satisfaction. "You may have fooled the mortals to think you were the hero, but from what I heard, you caused a bit of trouble last summer."

 _This coming from the guy who angered the gods and got a one way ticket to the field of punishment,_ I thought with anger.

A satyr inched forward nervously and set a plate of barbecue in front of Tantalus. The new activities director licked his lips. He looked at his empty goblet and said, "Root beer. Barq's special stock. 1967."

The glass filled itself with foamy soda. Tantalus stretched out his hand hesitantly, as if he were afraid the goblet was hot.

I don't know why I was watching. Maybe to see if the curse of his punishment had followed him here. I don't know. Tantalus was the first person I heard of that came back from the Fields of Punishment.

See, there are few ways someone can be reborn from the dead according to the Greek stories, Dragon's teeth, Hades special summon, etch. But most gods wouldn't dare summon those from the Field of Punishments. Mostly because those that were send there are those who angered the gods.

"Go on, then, old fellow," Dionysus said, a strange sparkle in his eyes. "Perhaps now it will work."

Tantalus grabbed for the glass, but it scooted away before he could touch it. A few drops of root beer spilled, and Tantalus tried to dab them up with his fingers, but the drops rolled away like quicksilver before he could touch. He growled and turned toward the plate of barbecue. He picked up a fork and tried to stab a piece of brisket, but the plate skittered down the table and flew off the end, straight into the coals of brazier.

"Blast!" Tantalus muttered.

"Ah, well," Dionysus said his voice dripping with false sympathy. "Perhaps a few more days. Believe me, old chap, working at this camp will be torture enough. I'm sure your old curse will fade eventually."

"Eventually," muttered Tantalus, staring at Dionysus' Diet Coke. "Do you have any idea how dry one's throat get after three thousand years."

"I'll be heading my way then," I responded. "Come on Tyson."

"Oh, no," Tantalus said. "The monster stays here. We must decide what to do with it."

" _Tyson_ is my brother," I responded.

"That's debatable," Tantalus responded.

I was about to argue when there was a loud gasp from across the hall. I looked over at Tyson and smiled.

Over Tyson was a brilliant green light and a dazzling holographic image that had appeared above Tyson's head: a trident.

"I believe my dad says otherwise," I responded. "Come _Tyson Jackson_ "—I said loud enough for the whole camp to hear—"I'll show you to Poseidon's Table."

…

After I showed Tyson how we scrape to the gods, Tyson and I sat down and ate. When we were done, Tantalus stood up to speak.

"Yes, well," Tantalus said, once the talking had died down. "Another fine meal! Or so I am told." As he spoke, he inched his hand toward his refilled dinner plate, as if maybe the food wouldn't notice what he was doing, but it did. It shot away down the table as soon as he got within six inches.

"And here on my first day of authority," he continued, "I'd like to say what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture, er, interact with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat."

Dionysus clapped politely, leading to some halfhearted applause from the satyrs. No one else dared too, especially those who knew full and well why Tantalus was in the Field of Punishment.

"And now some changes!" Tantalus gave the campers a crooked smile. "We are reinstating the chariot races!"

Murmuring broke out at all the tables—excitement, fear, disbelief. I remember when we had the chariot races. They were canceled during my third summer here when there was a near fatal accident with most of the occupied cabins chariots and those watching it.

"Now I know," Tantalus continued, raising his voice, "that these races were discontinued some years ago due to, ah, technical problems."

"Three deaths and twenty-six mutilations," someone at the Apollo table called.

"Yes, yes," Tantalus said. "But I know that you will all join me in welcoming the return of this camp tradition. Golden laurels will go to the winning charioteers each month. Teams may register in the morning! The first race will be held in three days time. We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your heroes. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team's cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win?"

An explosion of excited conversation—no KP for a whole month? No stable cleaning for a whole month? No stable cleaning? Was he serious?

As great as it sounded, I glanced at Annabeth at Athena's table. She look at me and gave me a reassuring smile, but I know she was thinking the same thing, we need to protect the camp.

However, the one who spoke up was the last we expected to argue.

"But, sir!" Clarisse said. She looked nervous, but she stood up to speak from the Ares table. Some of the campers snickered when they saw the YOU MOO GIRL! sign on her back. "What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop everything to ready our chariots—"

"Ah, the hero of the day," Tantalus explained. "Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!"

Clarisse blinked, then blushed. "Um, I didn't—"

"And modest, too," Tantalus grinned. "Not to worry, my dear! This is a summer camp. We are here to enjoy ourselves, yes?"

"But the tree—"

"And now," Tantalus said, as several of Clarisse's cabin mates pulled her back into her seat, "Let's proceed to the camp fire for some sing-along!"

Everyone murmured as they got up but I doubt anyone was in a mood for the camp fire.

* * *

 **A/N:** I know the myth about Tantalus, but considering how much Tantalus talked about eating the campers either as a threat and/or joke, I thought I had Percy call him the Child-Eater.


	6. When Demon Pigeons Attack

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **When Demon Pigeons Attack**

The next few days were torture, just like Tantalus wanted.

After I announced to the _whole_ camp that Tyson wasn't just my half-brother but obviously my adopted brother, I had to deal with rude or mean comments and some rumors.

Annabeth tried to make me feel better. She suggest we teamed up for the chariot race to take our mind off our problems. Don't get me wrong—we both hated Tantalus and we were worried sick about camp—but we didn't know what to do about it. Until we could come up with some brilliant plan to save Thalia's tree, we figured we might as well go along with the races. After all, Annabeth's mom, Athena, had invented the chariot, and my dad had created the horses that pull them. And since Chiron wouldn't let us take part of it the last time we had races, we figure now was the time to show what happens when children of Athena and Poseidon can do when they work together _outside_ the battlefield.

I tried to keep my problems involving Tyson to myself when we're working on the chariot together, but some campers make even that difficult.

One morning Annabeth and I were sitting by the canoe lake sketching the chariot designs when some jokers from Aphrodite cabin walked by and asked me if I needed to borrow some eyeliner for my eye… "Oh sorry, _eyes_."

As they walked away laughing, Annabeth grumbled, "Just ignore them, Percy."

"It's okay. It's not like I'm asking everyone to change their opinion about Tyson, I'm not asking anyone to do that," I responded. "I just want people to understand that my mom and I agreed to take Tyson in to help him find his way to the forges of the Cyclopes so he wouldn't turn out like the ones who kills demigods."

Annabeth thought of it for a second and sighed. "Working at the Forges would be a lot better than killing heroes. Now let's work on the chariot."

I nodded.

…

After that Annabeth wasn't so bother at the idea of Tyson being both my adopted and half-brother. She still was distant around Tyson, but considering this was coming from the girl who held a long term grudge against Hermes Cabin for setting loose spiders in Athena Cabin, I would be more surprise if she wasn't distant toward Tyson.

But it wasn't just the campers that were skittish around Tyson. One day, Silena Beauregard agreed to teach Tyson how to ride a Pegasus, but all the Pegasi decided they didn't want a cyclopes riding them.

The only other camper who had _no_ problem with Tyson was Beckendorf. The Lord of Blacksmiths worked with Cyclopes in his forges, so Beckendorf took Tyson down to the armory to teach him metalworking. He said he'd have Tyson crafting magic items like a master in no time.

While he was at it, I asked Beckendorf to modified the lid on my thermos so it can clip to my pants or belt so I can have to carry it in my hands whenever I _don't_ have a backpack for it. Beckendorf agreed with the idea and by the end of the day, I was able to clip my thermos to my belt so I can get to it went I need it.

After lunch, I had my first solo sword lesson alone with some of the unclaimed—helping them get claimed as I always do.

Archery haven't been the same since Chiron left. I ditch arts and crafts to work on some new water tricks. I scaled the climbing wall in full lava-and-earthquake mode. And in the evenings, I did border patrol with Hermes Cabin. Even though Tantalus had insisted we forget trying to protect the camp, some of the campers either use their free time on boarder patrol—it is our choice after all.

I sat at the top of Half-Blood Hill and watched the dryads come and go, singing to Thalia's tree. Satyrs brought their reed pipes and played nature magic songs, and for a while the pine needles seemed to get fuller. The flowers on the hill smelled a little sweeter and the grass looked greener. But as soon as the music stopped, the sickness crept back into the air. The whole hill seemed to be infected, dying from the poison that had sunk into the tree's roots. The longer I sat there, the angrier I got.

Who could do this to Thalia? Luke? As much as I like to think he wouldn't do that, the memory of him almost killing me replay in my head. Sure Luke didn't try to kill me directly, but he didn't stop the pit scorpion from not killing me either.

 _You wouldn't do this to Thalia, would you, Luke?_ I wondered

…

At night, I had more dreams of Grover. Sometimes, I just heard his scratches of his voice. Once, I heard him say: _It's here._ Another time: _He likes sheep_.

The night before the race, Annabeth and I finished the chariot. Annabeth finally let Tyson help with the building to help speed things up, and I think she even admits that Tyson a good job.

That night I had another dream about Grover.

…

In my dream, Grover was wearing a wedding dress.

It didn't fit him very well. The gown was too long and the hem was caked with dried mud. The neckline kept falling off his shoulders. A tattered veil covered his face.

He was standing in a dank cave, lit only by torches. There was a cot in one corner and an old-fashion loom in the other, a length of white cloth half woven on the frame. And he was staring right at me, like I was a TV program he'd been waiting for. "Thank the gods!" he yelped. "Can you hear me?"

My dream-self was slow to respond. I was still looking around, taking in the stalactite ceiling, the stench of sheep and goats, the growling and grumbling and bleating sounds that seemed to echo from behind a refrigerator-size boulder, which was blocking the room's only exit, as if there were a much larger cavern beyond it.

"Percy?" Grover said. "Please, I don't have the strength to project any better. You _have_ to hear me!"

"I hear you," I said. "Grover, what's going on?"

From behind the boulder, a monstrous voice yelled, "Honeypie! Are you done yet?"

Grover flinched. He called out in falsetto, "Not quite, dearest! A few more days!"

"Bah! Hasn't it been two weeks yet?"

"N-no, dearest. Just five. That leaves twelve more to go."

The monster was silent, maybe trying to do the math. He must've been the worse in arithmetic because he said, "All right, but hurry! I want to SEEEEE under that veil, heh-heh-heh."

Grover turned back to me. "You have to help me! No time! I'm stuck in this cave. On an island in the sea."

 _"Where?"_

"I don't know exactly! I went to Florida and turned left."

"What? How did you—"

"It's a trap!" Grover said. "It's the reason no satyr has ever returned from this quest. He's a shepherd, Percy! And he _has_ it. Its nature magic is _so_ powerful it smells just like the great god Pan! The satyrs come here thinking they've found Pan, and they get trapped and eaten by Polyphemus!"

"Polyphemus—wait as in the Cyclops Polyphemus? The only other Cyclops that got his name known since the Elder Cyclops?" I asked.

"The one and the same," Grover said. "I almost got away. I made it all the way to St. Augustine."

"But he followed you," I said, remembering my first dream. "And trapped you in a bridal boutique."

"That's right," Grover said. "My first empathy link must've worked then. Look, this bridal dress is the only thing keeping me alive. He thinks I smell good, but I told him it was just goat-scented perfume. Thank goodness he can't see very well. His eye is still half blind from the last time somebody poked it out. But soon he'll realize what I am. He's only giving me two weeks to finish the bridal train, and he's getting impatient!"

"Wait a minute. This Cyclops think you're—"

"Yes!" Grover wailed. He thinks I'm a lady Cyclops and he want to marry me!"

Under different circumstances, I might've burst out laughing, but Grover's voice was deadly serious. He was shaking with fear.

"I'll come to rescue you, if not at least have someone does," I promised. "So I take it you're in the sea of monsters, right?"

"Yes! But I don't know exactly where!" And look, Percy… um, I'm reall sorry about this, but this empathy link…"

"I understand," I responded. If Grover dies I would be stuck in a vegetative state.

"Honeypie!" the monster bellowed. "Dinnertime! Yummy yummy sheep meat!"

Grover whimpered. "I have to go. Hurry!"

"Wait what was that thing you mention before?" I asked.

But Grover's voice was already growing fainter. "Sweet dreams. Don't let me die!"

The dream faded and I woke with a start. It was early morning. Tyson was staring down at me, his one big brown eye full of concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

His voice sent a chill down my back, because he sounded almost exactly like Polyphemus.

That's when it dawn to me. Polyphemus is the son of Poseidon. That's why Odysseus took so long too go home. Because after Odysseus tricked him, Polyphemus prayed to Poseidon to curse Odysseus.

…

The morning of the race was hot and humid. Fog lay low on the ground like sauna steam. Millions of birds were roosting in the trees—fat gray-and-white pigeons, except they didn't coo like regular pigeons. They made this annoying metallic screeching sound that remind me of submarine radar.

The racetrack had been built in a grassy field between the archery range and the woods. Hephaestus cabin had used the Cochis Bulls, which were completely tamed since they'd had their heads smashed in, to plow an oval track in a matter of minutes.

There were rows of stone steps for spectators—Tantalus, the satyrs, a few dryads, and all of the campers who weren't participating. Mr. D didn't show. He never got up before ten o'clock.

"Right!" Tantalus announced as the teams began to assemble. A naiad had brought him a big platter of pastries, and as Tantalus spoke, his right hand chased a chocolate éclair across the judge's table. "You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!" Tantalus smiled at us like we were all naughty children. "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s'mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!"

Now, if you've never seen a Greek chariot, it's built for speed, not safety or comfort. It's basically a wooden basket, open at the back, mounted on an axle between two wheels. The driver stands up the whole times, and you can feel every bump in the road. The carriage is made of such light wood that if you wipe out making the hairpin turn at either end of the tracks, you'll probably tip over and crush both the chariot and yourself.

Beside me and Annabeth, it seems only the biggest or the strongest cabins were participating. Dionysus, Demeter, and Aphrodite weren't participating, mostly because they were worried about the races after hearing stories about the last chariot race.

Beckendorf led the Hephaestus team onto the track. They had a sweet ride made of bronze and iron—even the horses, which were magical automatons like the Colchis bulls. I had no doubt that their chariot had all kinds of mechanical traps and more fancy options than a fully loaded Maserati.

The Ares chariot was bloodred, and pulled by two grisly horse skeletons—probably a gift from their father. Did I forget to mention Ares can summon dead soldier of the side that _lost_ wars and his kids can command them? Anyways, Clarisse climbed aboard with a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops and a bunch of other nasty toys, which is expected from the children of the god of war.

Apollo's chariot was trim and graceful and completely gold, pulled by two beautiful palominos. Their fighter was armed with a bow, though he had promised not to shoot regular pointed arrows at the opposing drivers.

Hermes's chariot was green and kind of old-looking, as if it hadn't been out of the garage in years. It didn't look like anything special, but it was manned by the Stoll brothers, and I shuddered to think what dirty tricks they schemed up.

That just leaves Annabeth's and my Chariot. I was the driver and Annabeth was the fighter. I tried to tell Annabeth about my dream, she seemed concern.

"Tell me the rest after the race," Annabeth said.

I nodded but I still can't help but think what Grover found. What I can guess, it had something to do with sheep, but the only thing that comes to my mind but it been lost for millions of years. How did Polyphemus get his hands on it?

The conch horn sounded.

"Charioteers!" Tantalus called. "To your mark!"

We positioned our chariots. I couldn't help but noticed how many more pigeons were in the trees now—screeching like crazy, making the whole forest rustle. Nobody else seemed to be paying them much attention, but they made me feel nervous. Their beaks glinted strangely. They seemed shinier than regular birds. I remember Hal's book mentioning a bird described like that—something Hercules had to deal with for one of his labors.

I turned to Tyson to see if he was acting stragely. The big guy was sitting with Hephaestus cabin, who began to take Beckendorf's example of accepting him. Tyson did seem to glance at the birds every now and then, but I can't tell if it was because they smell funny to Tyson.

Annabeth seemed to have the same bad feeling about those birds because she said, "I'll keep an eye on the birds, and you focus on controlling the horses."

"Charioteers!" he shouted. "Attend your mark!"

He waved his hand and the starting signal dropped. The chariots roared to life. Hooves thundered against the dirt. The crowd cheered.

Almost immediately there was a loud nasty _crack_! I looked back in time to see the Apollo chariot flip over. The Hermes chariot had rammed into it—maybe by mistake, maybe not. The riders were thrown free, but their panicked horses dragged the golden chariot diagonally across the track. The Hermes team, Travis and Connor Stoll, were laughing at their good luck, but not for long. The Apollo horses crashed into theirs, and the Hermes chariot flipped too, leaving a pile of broken wood and four rearing horses in the dust.

Two chariots down in the first twenty feet.

I turned my attention back to the front. Annabeth and I were in the lead but Hephaestus' and Ares' Chariots weren't far along. That's when we heard the screaming.

The pigeons had apparently flew into the air and started swarming—thousands of them dive-bombing the spectators in the stands, attacking the other chariots. Beckendorf was mobbed. His fighter tried to bat the birds away but he couldn't see anything. The chariot veered off course and plowed through the strawberry fields, the mechanical horses steaming.

In the Ares chariot, Clarisse barked an order to her fighter, who threw a screen of camouflage netting over their basket. The birds swarmed around it, pecking and clawing at the fighter's hands as he tried to hold up the net, but Clarisse just gritted her teeth and kept driving. Her skeletal horses seemed immune to the distraction. The pigeons pecked uselessly at their empty eyes sockets and few through their rib cages, but the stallions kept right on running.

The spectators weren't so lucky. The birds were slashing at any bit of exposed flesh, driving everyone into panic. Now that the birds were closer it was clear they weren't normal pigeons. Their eyes were beady and evil-looking. Their beaks were made of bronze, and judging from the yelps of the campers, they must've been razor sharp. Tyson seemed to be helping as many campers as he can, but even he wasn't having much luck.

"Stymphalian birds!" Annabeth yelled. "They'll strip everyone to bones if we don't drive them away."

I remember the stories. Hercules used loud sounds to confuse the birds.

"We need to get to the Big House!" I responded.

Annabeth nodded knowing what I had planned.

I veered the chariot off the tracks toward the Big House.

Clarisse had just pulled across the finish line, completely unopposed, and seemed to notice for the first time how serious the bird problem was.

When she saw us driving away, she yelled, "You're _running_? The fight is here, cowards!" She drew her swords and charged for the stands

Annabeth and my chariot rumbled through the strawberry fields, across the volleyball pit, and lurched to a halt in front of the Big House. Annabeth and I ran inside, tearing down the hallway to Chiron's apartment.

His boom box was still on his nightstand. So were his favorite CDSs. I grabbed the most repulsive ones I could find, Annabeth snatched the boom box, and together we ran back outside.

Down the track, the chariots were in flames. Wounded campers ran in every direction, with birds shredding their clothes and pulling out their hair, while Tantalus chased breakfast pastries around the stands, every once in a while yelling, "Everything's under control! Not to worry."

We pulled up to the finish line. Annabeth got the boom box ready. I prayed the batteries weren't dead.

I pressed PLAY and started up Chiron's favorite—the _All-Time Greatest Hits of Dean Martin_. Suddenly the air was filled with violins and a bunch of guys moaning in Italian.

The demon pigeons went nuts. They started flying in circles, running into each other like they wanted to bash their own brains out. Then they abandoned the track altogether and flew skyward in a huge dark wave.

"Now!" shouted Annabeth. "Archers!"

With clear targets, Apollo's archers had flawless aim. Most of them could nock five or six arrows at once. Within minutes, the ground was littered with dead bronze-beak pigeons, and the survivors were a distant trail of smoke on the horizon.

The camp was saved, but the wreckage wasn't pretty. Most of the chariots had been completely destroyed. Almost everyone was wounded, bleeding from multiple bird pecks. The kids from Aphrodite cabin were screaming because their hairdos had been ruined and their clothes pooped on.

"Bravo!" Tantalus said, but he wasn't looking at me or Annabeth. "We have our first winner!" He walked to the finish line and awarded the golden laurels for the race to a stunned-looking Clarisse.

Then he turned and smiled at me. "And now to punish the one responsible for bringing the monster who disrupted the race."


	7. I Accept Gifts from Hermes

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **I Accept Gifts from Hermes**

I loathed Tantalus more than I ever thought possible—except maybe Ares. Just when I think Tyson was finally getting along with everyone, Tantalus put the blame of the chariot race on him.

The way Tantalus saw it, the Stymphalian birds had simply been minding their own business in the woods and would not have attacked it Tyson had provoked them by cheering the loudest for Annabeth and me despite our _horrible_ driving. And since we brought Tyson to camp, Annabeth and I share the same punishment as him.

This was so completely unfair. Tyson had nothing to do with the attack. Only good thing out of it was that some those who Tyson saved or saw Tyson protecting the campers didn't believe Tantalus and actually silently thanking Tyson before we were sent to kitchen patrol—scrubbing pots and platters all afternoon in the underground kitchen with the cleaning harpies. The harpies washed with lava instead of water, to get that extra-clean sparkle and kill ninety-nine point nine percent of all germs, so Annabeth and I had to wear asbestos gloves and aprons.

Tyson didn't mind. He plunged his bare hands right in and started scrubbing, but Annabeth and I had to suffer through hours of hot, dangerous work, especially since there were tons of extra plates. Tantalus had ordered a special luncheon banquet to celebrate Clarisse's chariot victory—a full-course meal featuring country-fried Stymphalian death-bird.

Another good thing out of this was that it gave Annabeth and me time to talk about my dream about Grover.

"If he's really found it," Annabeth murmured, "and if we could retrieve it—"

"You really think he found the Golden Fleece?" I asked.

Annabeth scrapped a plateful of death-bird bones into the lava. "Percy, remember the Gray Sisters? They said they knew the location of the thing you seek. And they mention Jason. Three thousand years ago, they told _him_ how to find the Golden Fleece."

"I remember, it was one of the stories in Hal's book," I responded. "The story of two brothers and a golden ram that was later sacrificed and the Fleece hanged that brought great prosperity to the land."

"And it could cure Thalia's tree," Annabeth said. "And it would also strengthen the borders of Camp Half-Blood. But the thing is it been missing for centuries. Tons of heroes have searched for it with no luck."

"But satyrs have," I responded. "Grover said it himself. The Golden Fleece is mostly the reason why no satyrs have returned from searching for Pan. Polyphemus been using it to lure them in. What I don't get is how did he get his hands on it?"

"Who knows?" Annabeth responded, "But I'm worried. What if this is a trap? What if Kronos set this up?"

"Maybe," I responded, "But we can't let the camp die. I told Grover I would at least send someone there."

She glanced at Tyson, who lost interest in our conversation and was happily making toy boats out of cups and spoons in the lava.

"We'll have to talk to Tantalus, get approval for a quest. He'll say no."

"Not if we tell him tonight at the campfire in front of everybody. The whole camp will hear. They'll pressure him. If we're lucky. He won't refuse and hopefully he won't try anything with Mr. D there."

I still haven't forgotten that we're talking about the Child Eater or that Mr. D hates most heroes. But even Mr. D wouldn't let Tantalus harm his own kids, and at this point I doubt any hero would argue that Thalia's tree needed the Fleece.

"We better get these dishes done," Annabeth said. "Hand me the lava spray gun, will you?"

…

That night at the campfire, Apollo's cabin led the sing-along. They tried to get everybody's spirits up, but it wasn't easy after that afternoon's bird attack. We all sat around a semicircle on stone steps, singing halfheartedly and watching the bronzefire blaze while the Apollo guys strummed their guitars and picked their lyres.

We did all standard camp numbers: "Down by the Aegean,"

"I Am My Own Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa,"

"This Land is Minos' Land." I always wondered if Lady Hestia watches our sing along since the bonfire was enchanted, so the louder you sang, the higher it rose, changing color and heat with the mood of the crowd. On a good night, I'd seen it twenty feet high, bright purple, and so hot the whole front row's marshmallow's burst into flames. Tonight, the fire was only five feet high, barely warm and flames were color of lint.

Unfortunately for us, Dionysus left early. After suffering through a few songs, he muttered something about how even pinochle with Chiron had been more exciting than this. Good news is I think he's starting to hate Tantalus more as he gave Tantalus a distasteful look before heading back toward the big house.

When the last song was over, Tantalus said, "Well, that was lovely!"

He came forward with a toasted marshmallow on a stick and tried to pluck it off, real casual-like. But before he could touch it, the marshmallow flew off the stick. Tantalus made a wild grab, but the marshmallow committed suicide, diving into the flames.

I admit, at first it was slightly amusing watching Tantalus trying catch his food as it makes you think, _that's what you get for feeding your son to the gods._ But after a week of watching this it gets pathetic. Not enough that we feel bad for him—after all, he did feed his son to the Olympians, including to his own father: Zeus that I can tell you _does not_ have a sense of humor.

Tantalus turned back toward us, smiling coldly. "Now then! Some announcements about tomorrow's schedule."

"Sir," I said.

Tantalus' eye twitched. "Our kitchen boy has something to say?"

Some of Ares campers snickered, but I wasn't going to let anybody embarrassed me into silence. I stood and looked at Annabeth who stood up with me.

I said, "We have an idea to save the camp."

Dead silence, but I could tell I'd gotten everybody's interest, because the campfire flared yellow.

"Indeed," Tantalus said blandly. "Well, if it has anything to do with chariots—"

"The Golden Fleece," I said. "We know where it is."

The flame burned orange. Before Tantalus could stop me, I blurted out my dream about Grover and Polyphemus' island. Annabeth stepped in and reminded everybody what the Fleece could do. It sounded more convincing coming from her.

"The Fleece can save the camp," she concluded. "I'm certain of it."

"Nonsense," said Tantalus. "We don't need saving."

Everybody stared at him until Tantalus started looking uncomfortable.

'Besides," he added quickly, "the Sea of Monsters? That's hardly an exact location. You wouldn't even know where to look."

"30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees 12 minutes west," I responded. "The Gray sisters gave us those coordinates. That'd be somewhere in the Atlantic, off the coast of Florida. The Sea of Monsters. Anyone who knows how to navigate can find it. We need a quest!"

"Wait just a minute," Tantalus said.

But the campers took up the chant. "We need a quest! We need a quest!"

The flames rose higher.

"It isn't necessary!" Tantalus insisted.

"WE NEED A QUEST! WE NEED A QUEST!"

"Fine!" Tantalus shouted, his eyes blazing with anger. "You want me to assign a quest?"

"YES!"

"Very well," he agreed. "I shall authorize the champion to undertake this perilous journey, to retrieve the Golden Fleece and bring it back to camp. Or die trying.

My heart filled with excitement and I had to forced down.

"I will allow our champion to consult the Oracle!" Tantalus announced. "And choose two champions for the journey. And I think the choice of the champion is obvious."

Tantalus looked at Annabeth and me as if he wanted to flay us alive. "The champion should be the one who has earned the camp's respect, who has proven resourceful in the chariot races and courageous in the defense of the camp. _You_ shall lead this quest… Clarisse!"

The fire flickered a thousand different colors. The Ares cabin started stomping and cheering, "CLARISSE! CLARISSE!"

Clarisse stood up, looking stunned. Then she swallowed and her chest swelled with pride. "I accept the quest! I, Clarisse, daughter of Ares, will save the camp!"

Typical, Tantalus picked his favorite camper. Athena campers protested as campers started taking sides. I wanted to join in too, but Tantalus shouted, "Silence!"

His tone stunned even me.

"Sit down!" he ordered. "And I will tell you a ghost story."

 _He's not seriously going to tell us his own story, is he?_ I thought as I reluctantly sat down. The evil aura radiating form Tantalus was as strong as any monster I'd ever faced.

"Once upon a time there was a mortal king who was beloved by the Gods!" Tantalus put his hand on his chest, "This king was even allowed to feast on Mount Olympus. But when he tried to take some ambrosia and nectar back to earth to figure out the recipe—just one little doggie bag, mind you—the gods punished him. They banned him from their halls forever! His own people mocked him! His own children scolded him! And, oh yes, campers, he had horrible children. Children—just—like—you!"

He pointed a crooked finger at several people in the audience including me.

"Do you know what he did to his ungrateful children?" Tantalus asked softly. "Do you know how he paid back the gods for their cruel punishment? He invited the Olympians to a feast at his palace, just to show there were no hard feelings. No one noticed that his children were missing. And when he served the gods dinner, my dear campers, can you guess what was in the stew?"

No one dared to answer. The firelight glowed dark blue, reflecting evilly on Tantalus' crooked face.

"Oh, the gods punished him in the afterlife," Tantalus croaked. "They did indeed. But he'd had his moment of satisfaction, hadn't he? His children never again spoke back to him or question his authority. And do you know what? Rumor has it that the king's spirit now dwells at this very camp, waiting for a chance to take revenge on ungrateful, rebellious children. And so… are there any more complaints, before we send Clarisse off on her quest?"

Silence.

Tantalus nodded at Clarisse. "The Oracle, my dear. Go on."

She shifted uncomfortably, like even _she_ didn't want glory at the price of being Tantalus' pet. "Sir—"

"Go!" he snarled.

She bowed awkwardly and hurried off toward the Big House.

"What about you, Percy Jackson?" Tantalus asked. "No comments from our dishwasher?"

I didn't say anything. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of punishing me again.

"Good," Tantalus said. "And let me remind everyone—no one leaves this camp without my permission. Anyone who tries… well, if they survive the attempt, they will be expelled forever, but it won't come to that. The harpies will be enforcing curfew from now on, and they are always hungry! Good night, my dear campers. Sleep well."

With a wave of Tantalus' hand, the fire was extinguish, and the campers trailed off toward their cabins in the dark.

…

I couldn't explain things to Tyson. He knew I was sad. He knew I was worried about Grover's safety and Thalia's tree. He knew the reason was because I had a feeling that Tantalus was just setting Clarisse up to fail.

"You will go anyway?" he asked.

"I don't know," I admitted. "It could be a trap, making the quest difficult, even for Clarisse."

"I will help."

"I can't ask you to do that, big guy," I responded.

Tyson looked down at the pieces of metal he was assembling in his lap—springs and gears and wires. Beckendorf had given him some tools and spare parts, and now Tyson spent every night tinkering, though I wasn't sure how his huge hands could handle such delicate little pieces

"What are you building?" I asked.

Tyson didn't answer. Instead he made a whimpering sound in the back of his throat. "Annabeth doesn't like me, does she?"

"Don't worry about it, Tyson. You got to understand, the Cyclopes we face in Brooklyn tried to mimic her dad's voice as well as mom's," I responded.

"But you came to accept me," Tyson said.

"Yeah, but Annabeth's different from me. Her pride is just making it hard for her to accept you after what we went through with the Brooklyn Cyclopes," I responded, "Believe me when I say Annabeth is already warming up to you. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have let you helped us with the chariot."

Tyson folded up his tinkering project in an oilcloth. He lay down on his bunk bed and hugged his bundle like a teddy bear. When he turned toward the wall, I could see the weird scars on his back from when he was attacked by sphinx. Tyson eventually fallen asleep.

I lay back on my bed and tried to close my eyes, but I just couldn't. I was afraid I might have another dream about Grover. I got up and leaned down to grab Hal's book.

Hal once told me that the information in this book would help me in the future. It was filled with short version of stories, and monsters and gods and everything known in Greek Myths. I opened it and tried to see if I can find anything on Empathy Links, or Polyphemus, or the Golden Fleece to see if I miss anything. However it was all the same stuff.

Finally I gave up and put it back under my bed. Then I got out and pulled on some clothes. I grabbed a beach blanket and six pack of Coke from under my bunk. The Cokes were against the rules. No outside snacks or drinks were allowed, but if you talked the right guy in Hermes cabin and paid him a few golden drachma, he could smuggle in almost anything from the nearest convenience store.

Sneaking out after curfew was against the rules, too. If I got caught I either get in big trouble or be eaten by harpies. But I wanted to see the ocean. I always felt better there. My thoughts were clearer. And with the full moon tonight, it'll be better. I left the cabin and headed to the beach.

…

I spread my blanket near the surf and popped open a Coke. For some reason sugar and caffeine always calmed down my hyperactive brain.

The sky was clear and starry. I was checking out the constellations—Sagittarius, Hercules, Corona Borealis—when somebody said, "Beautiful, aren't they?"

I almost spewed soda.

Standing right next to me was a familiar guy in nylon running shorts and a New York City Marathon T-shirt. He was slim and fit, with salt-and-pepper hair and a sly smile. He had elfish features, mischievous smile and a twinkle in his eyes

My eyes widened. "Lord Hermes…"

"May I join you?" he asked. "I haven't sat down in ages. Oh, is that Coca-Cola? May I have one?"

"Uh… Yes sir…"

Hermes sat down at the other end of the blanket, popped a soda and took a drink. "Ah… that hits the spot. Peace and quiet at—"

A cell phone went off in his pocket.

The jogger sighed. He pulled out his phone that glowed a bluish light. When he extended the antenna, two snakes no bigger than earthworms writhing around it. My guess that was Hermes caduceus—in its true form a wooden staff with two snakes wrapped around it but right now in cellphone form.

I learned that the God's symbol of powers can take different forms, especially if not in the hands of their owner. Like how Zeus' master bolt can take shape of a cylinders with two spikes coming out of the ends but when it's true form, it actually look like a thunder bolt.

Hermes checked his LCD display and cursed. "I've got to take this. Just a sec…" Then into the phone: "Hello?"

He listened. The mini-snakes writhed up and down the antenna right next to his ear.

"Yeah," the jogger said. "Listen—I know, but… I don't care if he _is_ chained to a rock with vultures pecking at his liver, if he doesn't have the tracking number, we can't locate the package… A gift to humankind, great… You know how many of those we deliver—Oh, never mind. Listen, just refer him to Eris in customer service. I gotta go."

He hung up. "Sorry. The overnight express business is just booming. Now, as I was saying—"

 _Ask the does the boy have rats_ a raspy male voice inside my head.

 _Don't be rude,_ said a female voice.

 _Why not?_ The male voice said. _I do all the_ real _work and I'm hungry._

"Don't fight you two!" the jogger slipped his phone back into his pocket. 'Now, where were we… Ah, yes. Peace and quiet."

He crossed his ankles and stared up at the stars. "Hard to believe it been six years since I first saw you, Percy. You were so adorable back then. Too bad I never got to talk to you," Hermes responded. "Maybe if I did—"

Before he could finished the female voice muffled out of his pocket: _I have Demeter on line two._

"Not now," Hermes said. "Tell her to leave a message."

 _She's not going to like that. The last time you put her off, all the flowers in the floral delivery division wilted._

"Just tell her I'm in a meeting!" Hermes said. "Sorry again, Percy. Where was I?"

"Something about not getting the chance to talk to me?" I responded.

"Oh right, if I had the chance to talk to you—especially after you had that dream vision of what happened to May, maybe you wouldn't have been so worried about telling Luke," Hermes responded.

I was in complete shock. I thought Hermes would blame me for Luke leaving camp to help Kronos.

"Lord Hermes, sorry to say this, but I thought you would blame me for not telling Luke," I responded.

"Well, I would be lying if I said I didn't at first," Hermes responded, "But that doesn't matter now. Right now, I'm here for another reason. What do you intend to do about the quest?"

"I can't go. I don't have permission."

"No, indeed. Will that stop you?"

"I'm not sure. I know Tantalus wants Clarisse to fail, and if she did both Grover and Thalia would die," I responded.

Hermes smiled. "I knew a boy once… oh, younger than you by far. A mere baby, really."

 _Here we go again,_ said the male snake. _He does know Percy heard this story before._

 _Quiet!_ The female voice snapped. _Do you want to get set on vibrate?_

Hermes ignored them. "One night, when this boy's mother wasn't watching, he sneaked out of their cave and stole some cattle that belonged to Apollo. In the end it turned out quite well. To make up for his theft, the boy gave Apollo an instrument he'd invented—a lyre. Apollo was so enchanted by the music that he forgot all about being angry."

I'm starting to see why Luke interrupted his father from telling this story. Hermes speaks the story as if he expects everyone to live by it.

"So—you're saying I should go anyway," I said, "Even without permission."

Hermes' eyes twinkled and took his phone. "Martha, may I have the first package, please?"

One of the green snakes grew to a regular size snake and opened her mouth… and kept opening it until it was as wide as my mouth. She belched out a stainless steel old-fashion lunch box thermos with a black plastic top. The sides of the thermos were enameled with red and yellow Ancient Greek scenes of I guess was Hercules because it showed him killing a lion; and lifting the three-headed dog Cerberus.

"This is a collector's item from _Hercules Busts Heads_. The first season."

" _Hercules Busts Head_?"

"Great show," Hermes sighed. "Back before Hephaestus-TV was a reality programming. Of course, the thermos would be worth much more if I had the whole lunch box—"

 _Or if it hadn't been in Martha's mouth,_ the other snake said.

 _I'll get you for that, George._ Martha began chasing him around the cellphone's antenna.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Why are you giving me this?"

"It's one of two gifts," Hermes said. "Go on, pick it up."

I almost dropped it because it was freezing cold on one side and burning hot on the other. The weird thing was, when I turned the thermos, the side facing the ocean—north—was always on the cold side…

"It's a compass!" I said.

Hermes looked surprised. "Never clever. I never thought of that. But its intended use is a bit more dramatic. Uncap it, and you will release the winds from the four corners of the earth to speed you on your way. Not now! And please, when the time comes, only unscrew the lid a tiny bit. The winds are a bit like me—always restless. Should all four escape at once… ah, but I'm sure you'll be careful. And now my second gift. George?"

 _She's touching me,_ George complained as he and Martha slithered around the antenna.

"She's _always_ touching you," Hermes said. "You're intertwined. And if you don't stop that, you'll get knotted again!"

The snakes stopped wrestling.

George grew to normal size, unhinge his jaws and coughed up a little plastic bottle filled with chewable vitamins.

"Are those Minotaur shape?" I asked.

Hermes picked up the bottle and rattled it. "The lemon ones, yes. The grape ones are Furies, I think. Or are they hydras? At any rate, these are potent. Don't take one unless you really, really need it."

"How will I know I really, really need it?"

"You'll know, believe me. Nine essential vitamins, minerals, amino acids… oh, everything you need to feel your self again."

He tossed me the bottle."

"Um, thanks," I said. "But Lord Hermes, why are you helping me?"

He gave me a melancholy smile. "Perhaps because I hope you can save many people on this quest, Percy. Not just your friends Grover and Thalia."

I stared at him. "You want me to bring Luke back, don't you."

"You can't give up on family, my little cousin," Hermes responded as he got up and brushed the sand off his legs. "In the meantime, I must be going."

 _You have sixty calls to return,_ Martha said.

 _And one thousand-thirty-eight_ _e-mails_ , George added. _Not counting the offers for online discount ambrosia._

"And you, Percy," Hermes said, "have a shorter deadline than you realize to complete your quest. Your friends should be coming right about… now."

I heard Annabeth's voice calling my name from the sand dunes. Tyson, too, was shouting from a little bit farther away."

"I hope I packed well for you," Hermes said. "I do have some experience with travel."

He snapped his fingers and three yellow duffel bags appeared at my feet. "Waterproof, of course. If you ask nicely, your father should be able to help you reach the ship."

"Ship?"

Hermes pointed. Sure enough, a big cruise ship was cutting across Long Island Sound, its white-and-gold lights glowing against the dark water.

"Wait," I said. "I haven't agreed to go!"

"I'd make up your mind in the next five minutes, if I were you," Hermes advised. "That's when the harpies will come to eat you. Now, good night, cousin, and dare I say it? May the gods go with you."

Hermes slipped his cellphone into his pocket and jogged off down the beach. Twenty paces away, he shimmered and vanished, leaving me alone with a thermos, a bottle of chewable vitamins, and five minutes to make an impossible decision.


	8. We Board the Princess Andromeda

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Board the Princess Andromeda**

I was staring at the waves when Annabeth and Tyson found me.

"What's going on?" Annabeth asked. "I heard you calling for help!"

"Me, too!" Tyson said. "Heard you yell, "Bad things are attacking!"

"I didn't call you guys," I said. "I'm fine."

"But then…" Annabeth noticed the three yellow duffel bags, then the Hercules brand thermos (the outside of the Thermos I used to summon water is made out of Celestial bronze and doesn't have pictures on it) and the bottle of vitamins I was holding. "What—"

"Just listen," I said. "We don't have much time."

I told them about my conversation with Hermes. By the time I was finished, I could hear screeching in the distance—patrol harpies picking up our scent.

"Percy," Annabeth said, "we have to do the quest."

"We'll get expelled, you know," I responded.

"So? If we fail, there won't be any camp to come back to. Tyson can stay behind and tell them—"

"I want to go," Tyson said.

Annabeth looked worried about the idea.

"Tyson, where we're going, an evil Cyclopes called Polyphemus is holding a friend of ours captured," I responded. "Not only that, but he's a son of Poseidon."

"Any Cyclopes that is a threat to Percy and Annabeth is no brother of mine." Tyson responded.

I guess it was hard to argue against that. I looked at Annabeth who was just as skeptical.

"Okay—I guess you're coming," I responded.

"All right," Annabeth said. "How do we get to that ship?"

"Well, Hermes said my father would help if I ask, so since all of us are here, all is left is to ask," I responded.

"Then what are you waiting for Seaweed Brain!" Annabeth responded.

I nodded and headed Into the water. When I was knees deep, I touch the water.

"Hey dad! We need your help," I said, "We need to get to that ship, and if you can supply a ride that can carry Tyson, that would be great."

At first nothing happened. Waves crashed against the shore like normal. The harpies sounded like they were right behind the sand dunes. Then, about a hundred yards out to sea, three white lines appeared out of the surface. They moved fast toward the shore, like claws ripping through the ocean.

As they neared the beach, surf burst apart and the heads of three white stallions reared out of the waves.

Tyson caught his breath. "Fish ponies!"

He was right. As the creatures pulled themselves onto the sand, I saw that they were only horses in the front; they back halves were silvery fish bodies, with glistening scales and rainbow tail fins.

"Hippocampi!" Annabeth said. "They're beautiful."

The nearest one whinnied in appreciation and nuzzled Annabeth.

"We'll admire them later," I said. "Come on!"

"There!" a voice screeched behind us. "Bad children out of cabins! Snack time for lucky harpies!"

Five of them were fluttering over the tops of the dunes—plumped little harpies with pinched faces and talons and feathery wings too small for their bodies. They always reminded me of miniature cafeteria ladies who'd been cross bred with dodo birds. They weren't very fast, thank the gods, but they were vicious if they caught you.

"Tyson!" I said. "Grab a duffel bag!"

He was still staring at the hippocampi with his mouth hanging open.

"Tyson!"

"Uh?"

"Come on!"

With Annabeth's help I got him moving. We gathered the bags and mounted our steeds. Fortunately dad send Tyson a hippocampi that was large enough to carry a young Cyclops.

"Giddyup!" I said. My hippocampus turned and plunged into the waves. Annabeth's and Tyson's followed right behind.

The harpies wailed for their snacks to come back, but the hippocampi raced over the water at the speed of Jet Skis. The harpies fell behind, and soon the shore of Camp Half-Blood was nothing but a dark smudge. I wondered if I'd ever see the place again. But right then I had other problems.

The cruise ship was now looming in front of us—our ride toward Florida and the Sea of Monsters.

Riding the hippocampus was even easier than racing Pegasus. We zipped along with the wind in our faces, speeding through the waves so smooth and steady I hardly needed to hold on at all.

As we got closer to the cruise ship, I realized just how huge it was. I felt as though I were looking up at a building in Manhattan. The white hull was at least ten stories tall, topped with another dozen levels of decks with brightly lit balconies and portholes. The ship's name was painted just above the bow line in black letters, lit with a spotlight. It took me a few second to decipher it:

 _PRINCESS ANDROMEDA_

Attached to the bow was a huge masthead—a three story-tall woman wearing a white Greek chiton, sculpted to look as if she were chained to the front of the ship. She was young and beautiful, with flowing black hair, but her expression was absolute terror. Why anybody would want a screaming princess on their vacation ship, I had no idea.

I'm full aware of the myth of Andromeda and how she had been chained to a rock by her own parents as a sacrifice to a sea monster. Something about her parents angering the gods and they demanded a sacrifice of their only daughter. Anyway, my namesake, Perseus had saved her just in time and turned the sea monster to stone using the head of Medusa.

 _That_ Perseus always won. That's why my mom had named me after him, even though he was a son of Zeus and I was a son of Poseidon. The original Perseus was one of the only heroes in the Greek myths who got a happy ending. The others died—betrayed, mauled, mutilated, poisoned, or cursed by the gods. My mom hoped I would inherit Perseus' luck.

I don't know about inheriting Perseus' luck, but considering Halcyon Green: a son of Apollo who inherit the powers to see into the future—once predicted that I would be one of the seven greatest heroes of my generation, it's hard to argue.

"How do we get aboard?" Annabeth shouted over the noise of the waves, but the hippocampi seemed to know what we needed. They skimmed along the starboard side of the ship, riding easily through its huge wake, and pulled up next to a service latter riveted to the side of the hull. At least I don't have to use my powers.

Being a son of Poseidon, I have telekinetic powers with anything that travels in my father's domain—mostly ships and boats. I think I can even control a full size boat single-handedly, but since I never been on a large ship until now, I never got the chance to try it out.

"You first," I told Annabeth.

She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and grabbed the bottom rung. Once she'd hoisted herself onto the ladder, her hippocampus whinnied farewell and dove underwater. Annabeth began to climb. I let her get a few rungs up, then followed her.

Finally it was just Tyson in the water. His hippocampus was treating him to 360o aerials and backward ollies, and Tyson was laughing so hysterically, the sound echoed up the side of the ship.

"Tyson, shhh!" I said. "Come on, big guy!"

"Can't we take Rainbow?" he asked, his smile fading.

The hippocampus whinnied as if he liked his new name.

"Um, we have to go," I said. "Rainbow… well, he can't climb ladders."

Tyson sniffled. He buried his face in the hippocampus' mane. "I will miss you, Rainbow!"

The hippocampus made a neighing sound that I recognized as crying.

"Maybe we'll see him again sometime," I suggested.

"Oh, please!" Tyson said, perking up immediately. "Tomorrow!"

I didn't make any promises, but I finally convinced Tyson to say his farewells and grab hold of the ladder. With a final sad whinny, Rainbow the hippocampus did a back-flip and dove into the sea.

…

The ladder led to a maintenance deck stacked with yellow lifeboats. There was a set of locked double doors, which Annabeth managed to pry open with her knife and a fair amount of cursing in Ancient Greek.

I figured we'd have to sneak around, being stowaways and all, but after checking a few corridors and peering over a balcony into a huge central promenade line with closed shops, I began to realize there was nobody to hide from. I mean, sure it was the middle of the night, but we walked half the length of the boat and met no one. We passed forty or fifty cabin doors and heard no sound behind any of them.

"Do you smell anything Tyson?" I asked.

Tyson was fiddling with the strap of his duffel bag. The Mist distorted his face to make it look like he had two eyes instead of one. "Bad smell."

"Great," I mumbled.

"I take it that means he smells monsters?" Annabeth asked.

I nodded. We came outside on the swimming pool level. There were rows of empty deck chairs and a bar closed off with a chain curtain. The water in the pool glowed eerily, sloshing back and forth from the motion of the ship.

Above us fore and aft were more levels—a climbing wall, a putt-putt golf course, a revolving restaurant, but no sign of life.

And yet… I sense something familiar. Something dangerous. I had the feeling that if I weren't so tired and burned out on adrenaline from our long night, I might be able to put a name to what was wrong.

"We need a hiding place," I said. "Somewhere safe to sleep."

"Sleep," Annabeth agreed wearily.

We explored a few more corridors until we found an empty suite on the ninth level. The door was open, which struck me as weird. There was a basket of chocolate goodies on the table, an iced-down bottle of sparkling cider on the nightstand, and a mint on the pillow with a handwritten note that said: _Enjoy your cruise!_

We opened our duffel bags for the first time and found that Hermes really had thought of everything—extra clothes, toiletries, camp rations, a Ziploc bag full of cash, a leather pouch full of golden drachmas. He'd even manage to pack Tyson's oilcloth with his tools and metal bits, my celestial bronze thermos with the inside coating of fossilize seashells, and Annabeth's cap of invisibility, which each of us feel a lot better.

"I'll be next door," Annabeth said. "You guys _don't_ drink or eat anything."

I nodded. We weren't sure that if this place was enchanted or anything and we didn't want to take any chances.

We locked our doors.

Tyson crashed on the couch. He tinkered for a few minutes on his metalworking project—which he still wouldn't show me—but soon enough he was yawning. He wrapped up his cloth and passed out.

I lay on the bed and stared out the porthole. I thought I heard voices in the hallway, like whispering. They reminded me of my trip to the Underworld—the way the spirits of the dead sounded as they drifted past.

Finally my weariness got the best of me. I fell asleep… and had my worst dream yet.

…

I was standing in a cavern at the edge of an enormous pit. I knew the place too well. The entrance to Tartarus. And I recognized the cold laugh that echoed from the darkness bellow.

 _If it isn't the young hero_. The voice was like a knife blade scraping across stone. _On his way to another great victory._

I wanted to shout at Kronos to leave me alone. I wanted to draw Riptide and strike him down. But I couldn't move. And even if I could, how could I kill something that had already been destroyed—chopped to pieces and cast into eternal darkness?

 _Don't let me stop you,_ the titan said. _Perhaps this time, when you fail, you'll wonder if it's worthwhile slaving the gods. How exactly has your father cared for you lately?_

His laughter filled the cavern, and suddenly the scene changed.

It was a different cave—Grover's bedroom prison in the Cyclops' lair.

Grover was sitting at the loom in his soiled wedding dress, madly unraveling the threads of the unfinished bridal train.

 _Wow, he must be desperate to pull Penelope's trick,_ I thought.

While waiting for her husband Odysseus to return, Odysseus' wife Penelope was surrounded by suitors who tried to convinced her that her husband died and that she should remarried. She manage to hold off the wedding by saying she would only married when she finish a new bridal train, but when no one was looking, she unraveled her work—making the suitors keep waiting for a wedding that never will happened.

"Honeypie!" the monster shouted from behind the boulder.

Grover yelped and began weaving the threads back together.

The room shook as the boulder was pushed aside. Looming in the doorway was a Cyclops so huge he made Tyson look vertically challenged. He had jagged yellow teeth and gnarled hands as big as my whole body. He wore faded purple T-shirt that said WORLD SHEEP EXPO 2001. He must've been at least fifteen feet tall, but the most startling thing was his enormous milky eye, scarred and webbed with cataracts. If this wasn't Polyphemus then I don't know my Greek Mythology real well.

"What are you doing?" the monster demanded.

"Nothing!" Grover said in his falsetto voice. "Just weaving my bridal train, as you can see."

The Cyclops stuck one hand into the room and groped around until he found the loom. He pawed the cloth. "It hasn't gotten any longer!"

"Oh, um, yes it has, dearest. See? I've added at least an inch."

"Too many delays!" the monster bellowed. Then he sniffed the air. "You smell good! Like goats!"

"Oh," Grover forced a weak giggle. "Do you like it? It's _Eau de Chévre_. I wore it just for you."

"Mmmm!" The Cyclops bared his pointed teeth. "Good enough to eat!"

"Oh, you're such a flirt!"

"No more delays!"

"But dear, I'm not done!"

"Tomorrow!"

"No, no. Ten more days."

"Five!

"Oh, well, seven then. If you insist."

"Seven! That's less than five, right?"

"Certainly. Oh yes."

The monster grumbled, still not happy with his deal, but left Grover to his weaving and rolled the boulder back into place.

Grover closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"Hurry, Percy," he muttered. "Please, please, please!"

…

I woke to the ship's whistle and a voice on the intercom—some guy in an Australian accent who sounded way too happy.

"Good morning, passengers!" We'll be at sea all day today. Excellent weather for the poolside mambo party! Don't forget million-dollar bingo in the Kraken Lounge at one o'clock, and for our _special guest_ , disemboweling practice on the Promenade!"

I sat up in bed. "Did he just say _Disembowling_ practice?"

Tyson groaned, still half asleep. He was lying face down on the couch, his feet so far over the edge they were in the bathroom. "The happy man said… bowling practice?"

There was an urgent knock on the suite's interior door. Annabeth stuck her head in—her blond hair in a rat's nest. _"Disembowling_ practice?"

Once we were dressed, we ventured out into the ship and were surprised to see other people. A dozen senior citizens were heading to breakfast. A dad was taking his kids to the pool for a morning swim. Crew members in crisp white uniforms strolled the deck, tipping their hats to the passengers.

Nobody asked who we were. Nobody paid us much attention. But there was something wrong.

As the family of swimmers passed us, the dad told his kids. "We are on a cruise. We are having fun."

"Yes," his three kids said in unison, their expression blank. "We are having a blast. We will swim in the pool."

They wandered off.

"Good morning," a crew member told us, his eyes glazed. "We are enjoying ourselves aboard the _Princess Andromeda_. Have a nice day." He drifted away.

"Percy, this is weird," Annabeth whispered. "They're all in some kind of trance."

"Yeah, like someone is using actual magic," I responded.

Then we passed a cafeteria and saw our first monster. It was a hellhound—a black mastiff with its front paws up on the buffet line and its muzzle buried in the scrambled eggs. It must've been young, because it was small compared to most I've encountered—no bigger than a grizzly bear. Still, my blood turned cold. I'd almost gotten killed multiple times by hellhounds.

The weird thing was: a middle aged couple was standing in the buffet line right behind the devil dog, patiently waiting their turn for the eggs. They didn't seem to notice anything out of then ordinary—probably due to the Mist and the magic here.

"Not hungry anymore," Tyson murmured.

Before Annabeth and I could reply, a reptilian voice came from down the corridor, "Sssix more joined yesssterday."

Annabeth gestured frantically toward the nearest hiding place—the women's room—and all three of us ducked inside. If it wasn't for an emergency, I would have protested.

Something—no more like _two_ somethings—slithered past the bathroom door, making sounds like sandpaper against the carpet.

"Yesss," a second reptilian voice said. "He drawssss them. Ssssoon we will be sssstrong."

The things slithered into the cafeteria with a cold hissing that might have been snake laughter.

Annabeth looked at me. "We have to get out off this ship."

"Smells bad," Tyson agreed. "And dogs eat all the eggs. Annabeth is right. We must leave the restroom and ship."

It's hard to argue when Tyson and Annabeth agree on something for once.

Then I heard another voice outside—one that chilled me worse than any monster's.

"—only a matter of time. Don't push me, Agrius!"

It was Luke. I could never forget his voice.

"I'm not pushing you!" another guy growled. His voice was deeper and even angrier than Luke's. "I'm just saying, if this gamble doesn't pay off—"

"It'll pay off," Luke snapped. "They'll take the bait. Now, come, we got to get to the admiralty suite and check on the casket."

Their voices receded down the corridor.

Tyson whimpered. "Leave now?"

Annabeth and I exchange looks and came to a silent agreement.

"We can't," I told Tyson.

"We have to find out what Luke is up to," Annabeth agreed. "And if possible bring him back to camp."


	9. I Have the Worst Family Reunion Ever

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **I Have the Worst Family Reunion Ever**

Annabeth volunteered to go alone since she had the cap of invisibility, but I convinced her it was too dangerous. Either we all went together, or nobody went.

"Nobody!" Tyson voted. "Please?"

But in the end he came along, nervously chewing on his fingernails. We stopped at our cabin long enough to gather our stuff. We figured whatever happened, we would _not_ be staying another night aboard the zombie cruise ship, even if they did have million-dollar bingo. I made sure Riptide was in my pocket, my thermos clipped to my belt and the Hercules-Themes Thermos and vitamins were at the top of my bag. I didn't want Tyson to carry everything, but he insisted, and Annabeth told me not to worry about it. Tyson could carry all three duffel bags over his shoulder as easily as I could carry a backpack.

We sneaked through the corridors, following the ship's YOU ARE HERE signs toward the admiralty suite. Annabeth scouted ahead invisibly. We hid whenever someone passed by, but most of the people we saw were just glassy-eyed zombie passengers.

As she came up the stairs to deck thirteen, where the admiralty suite was supposed to be, Annabeth hissed, "Hide!" and shoved us into a supply closet.

I heard a couple of guys coming down the hall.

"You see that Aethiopian drakon in the cargo hold?" one of them said.

The others laughed. "Yeah, it's awesome."

I realized I recognized some of the voices as the unclaimed demigods of Hermes Cabin that I worked with to help get claimed. The second voice especially sounded familiar.

"I hear they got two more coming," the familiar voice said. "They keep arriving at this rate, oh, man—no contest!"

The voices faded down the corridor.

"That was Chris Rodriguez!" Annabeth took off her cap and turned visible.

My eyes widened. No wonder he sound familiar. Last summer I worked with him to get recognition from Hermes to be claimed. The guy had all the traits of one of Hermes' kids, but for some reason the god of travelers haven't claimed him yet.

"Why are there other half-bloods here?" I asked.

Annabeth shook her head, clearly troubled.

We kept going down the corridor. I didn't need maps anymore to know I was getting close to Luke. I sense something cold and unpleasant—the presence of evil.

"Percy." Annabeth stopped suddenly. "Look."

She stood in front of a glass wall looking down into the multistory canyon that ran through the middle of the ship. At the bottom was the Promenade—a map full of shops—but that's not what had caught Annabeth's attention.

A group of monsters had assembled in front of the candy store: a dozen Laistrygonian giants like the ones who'd attacked me with dodge balls, two hellhounds, and a few humanoid females with twin serpent tails instead of legs known as Scythian Dracaenae: Dragon Women.

The monsters made a semicircle around a young boy in Greek armor who was hacking on a straw dummy. A lump form in my throat when I realized the dummy was wearing an orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. As we watched, the guy in armor stabbed the dummy through its belly and ripped upward. Straw flew everywhere. The monsters cheered and howled.

Annabeth stepped away from the window. Her face ashen.

"Come on," I told her, trying to sound braver than I felt. "The sooner we find Luke the better."

At the end of the hallway were double oak doors that looked like they must lead somewhere important. When we were thirty feet away, Tyson stopped. "Voices inside."

"You can hear that far?" I asked.

Tyson closed his eyes like he was concentrating hard. I quickly realize what he was about to do.

"Wait, Tyson—"

But it was already too late. His voice changed, becoming a husky approximation of Luke's. "—the prophecy ourselves. The fools won't know which way to turn."

Tyson's voice changed again, become deeper and gruffer, like the other guy we'd heard talking to Luke outside the cafeteria. "You really think the old horseman is gone for good?"

Tyson laughed Luke's laugh. "They can't trust him. Not with the skeletons in _his_ closet. The poisoning of the tree was the final straw."

Annabeth shivered. "Stop that, Tyson! It's creepy."

Tyson opened his eye and looked puzzled. "Just listening."

"We'll need to suck it up… this could be our only time to find out Luke's plan," I responded.

Tyson closed his eye again.

He hissed in the gruff man's voice: "Quiet!"

Then Luke's voice, whispering: "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Tyson said in the gruff voice. "Right outside."

Too late, I realized what was happening.

I just had time to say, "Run!" when the doors of the stateroom burst open and there was Luke, flanked by two hairy giants armed with javelins, their bronze tips aimed right at our chests.

"Well," Luke said with a crooked smile. "If it isn't my two favorite cousins. Come right in."

…

The state room was beautiful, and it was horrible.

The beautiful part: Huge windows curved along the back wall, looking out over the stern of the ship. Green sea and blue sky stretched all the way to the horizon. A Persian rug covered the floor. Two plus sofas occupied the middle of the room, with a canopied bed in one corner and a mahogany dining table in the other. The table was loaded with food—pizza boxes, bottles of soda, and a stack of roast beef sandwiches on a silver platter.

The horrible part: on a velvet dais at the back of the room lay a ten-foot-long golden casket. A sarcophagus, engraved with Ancient Greek scenes of cities in flames and heroes dying grisly deaths. Despite the sunlight streaming through the windows, the casket made the whole room feel cold.

"Well," Luke said, spreading his arms proudly. "A little nicer than Cabin Eleven, huh?"

He changed since the last summer. Instead of Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt, he wore a button-down shirt, khaki pants, and leather loafers. His sandy hair, which used to be so unruly, was now clipped short. He looked like an evil male model, showing off what the fashionable college-age villain was wearing to Harvard this year.

He still had the scar under his eye—a jagged white line from his battle with Ladon the hundred headed dragon. And propped against the sofa was his magical sword, Backbiter, glinting strangely with its half-steel, half-Celestial bronze blade that could kill both mortals and monsters.

"Sit," he told us. He waved his hands and three dining chairs scooted themselves into the center of the room.

None of us sat.

Luke's large friends were still pointing their javelins at us. They looked like twins, but they weren't humans. They stood about eight feet tall, for one thing, and wore only blue jeans, probably because their enormous chest were already shag-carpeted with thick brown hair. They had claws for fingernails, feel like paws. Their noses were snoutlike, and their teeth were all pointed canines.

"Where are my manners?" Luke said smoothly. "These are my assistants Agrius and Oreius. Perhaps you've heard of them. Their mother… well, it's sad, really. Aphrodite ordered the young woman to fall in love. She refused and ran to Artemis for help. Artemis let her become one of her maiden huntresses, but Aphrodite got her revenge. She bewitched the young woman into falling in love with a bear. When Artemis found out, she abandoned the girl in disgust. Typical of the gods, wouldn't you say? They fight with one another and the poor humans get caught in the middle. The girl's twin sons here, Agrius and Oreius, have no love for Olympus. They like half-bloods well enough, though…"

"For lunch," Agrius growled. His gruff voice was the one I'd heard talking with Luke earlier.

"Hehe! Hehe!" His brother Oreius laughed, licking his fur-lined lips. He kept laughing like he was having astmatic fit until Luke and Agrius both stared at him.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Agrius growled. "Go punish yourself!"

Oreius whimpered. He trudged over to the corner of the room, slumped onto a stool, and bang his head against the dinning table, making the silver plates rattle.

Luke acted like this was perfectly normal behavior. He made himself comfortable on the sofa and propped his feet on the coffee table. "Well, Percy, you survived the pit scorpion venom. I had hopes you would. How's your mom? How's school?"

"Did you poison Thalia's tree?" I asked.

Luke sighed. "Right to the point, eh? Okay, sure I poisoned the tree. So what?"

"How could you?" Annabeth demanded, "Thalia saved your life! _Our_ lives! How could you dishonor her—"

"I didn't dishonor her!" Luke snapped. "The gods dishonored her, Annabeth! If Thalia were alive, she'd be on my side."

"Liar!"

"If you knew what was coming, you'd understand—"

"I understand you want to destroy the camp!" Annabeth yelled. "You're a monster."

Luke shook his head. "The gods have blinded you—both of you. Can't you two imagine the world without them, Annabeth and Percy? What god is that ancient history you two study? Three thousand years of baggage! The West is rotten to the core. It has to be destroyed. Join me. We can start the world anew. We could your intelligence, Annabeth, and your power Percy."

"Only because you have none of your own!"

His eyes narrowed to the both of us. "I know you two, Annabeth and Percy. You both deserve better than tagging along on some hopeless quest to save the camp. Half-Blood Hill will be overrun by monsters within the month. The heroes who survive will have no choice but to join us or be hunted to extinction. You really want to be on a losing team… with company like this?" Luke pointed at Tyson.

"Leave Tyson out of this!" I responded.

"Traveling with a _Cyclops_ ," Luke chided. "Talk about dishonoring Thalia's memory!"

"Tyson had nothing to do with the Brooklyn Cyclopes!" I responded, "He was only a year old at the time!"

Luke laughed. "Oh, that's right! I forgot your father entrusted this thing to you and your mother. Even claimed him."

I must have looked surprise, because Luke smiled. "Yes, Percy, I know all about that. And about your plan to find the Fleece. What were those coordinates again? 30 degrees, 31 minutes to the north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes to the west? You see, I still have friends at camp who keep me posted."

"Spies, you mean."

He shrugged. "How many insults from your father can you stand, Percy? You think he's grateful to you? You think Poseidon really cares for you any more than he cares for this monster?"

Tyson clenched his fists and made a rumbling sound down in his throat.

Luke just chuckled. "The gods are _so_ using you, Percy. Do you have any idea what's in store for you if you reach your sixteenth birthday? Has Chiron even _told_ you the prophecy?"

I didn't know about the sixteenth birthday thing, but I have a good feeling what prophecy he was talking about.

"You're a fool Percy," Luke said, "You should have gone up to the attic with Annabeth back then. If you have, your eyes would be open to the truth. Why your father claimed you six years ago."

Tyson smashed the nearest dining chair to splinters. "Percy is not a fool!"

"Tyson, calm down!" I ordered.

Tyson reluctantly did as he was told.

"Luke, listen to me. Your father sent us."

His face turned the color of pepperoni. "Don't— _even_ —mention him.

He told us to take the boat, to find you," I responded, "Luke, listen, you got your father wrong. You don't know the whole story about your mother."

 _"I got my father wrong? I don't know the whole story?"_ Luke roared. "He stolen my mother's sanity, Percy! You met her yourself. And then he abandoned me! I want Olympus destroyed! Every throne crushed to rubble! You can tell Hermes it's going to happen, too. Each time a half-blood join us, the Olympians grow weaker and we grow stronger. _He_ grows stronger." Luke pointed to the gold sarcophagus.

The box creeped me out since we came in here, and now that I think about it, I realize why. "You don't mean—"

"He is re-forming," Luke said. "Little by little, we're calling his life force out of the pit. With every recruit who pledges our cause, another piece appears—"

"That's disgusting!" Annabeth said.

Luke sneered at her. "Your mother was born from Zeus' split skull, Annabeth. I wouldn't talk. Soon there will be enough of the titan lord so that we can make him whole again. We will piece together a new body for him, a work worthy of the forges of Hephaestus."

"You're insane," Annabeth said.

"Join us and both of you will be rewarded. We have powerful friends, sponsors rich enough to buy this cruise ship and much more. Percy, your mother will never have to work again. You can buy her a mansion. You can have the power and fame Hal said you will have. Annabeth, you can realize your dream of being an architect. You can build a monument to last a thousand years. A temple to the lords of the next age!"

"Go to Tartarus," she said.

Luke sighed. "A shame."

He picked up something that looked like a TV remote and pressed a red button. Within seconds the door of the stateroom opened and two uniformed crew members came in, armed with nightsticks. They had the same glassy-eyed look as the other mortals I'd seen, but I had a feeling this wouldn't make them any less dangerous in a fight.

"Ah, good, security," Luke said, "I'm afraid we have some stowaways.

"Yes, sir," they said dreamily.

Luke turned to Oreius. "It's time to feed the Aethiopian Drakon. Take these fools below and show them how it's done."

Oreius grinned stupidly. "Hehe! Hehe!"

"Let me go, too," Agrius grumbled. "My brother is worthless. That cyclops—"

"Is no threat," Luke said. He glanced back at the golden casket, as if something were troubling him. "Agrius, stay here. We have important matters to discus."

"But—"

"Oreius, don't fail me. Stay in the hold and make sure the Drakon is properly fed."

Oreius prodded us with his javelin and herded us out of the stateroom, followed by the two human security guards.

…

We exited the corridor amidships and walked across an open deck lined with lifeboats. I looked at Annabeth who nodded. I looked at Tyson and mouthed, "Now."

Thank the gods he understood. He turned and smacked Oreius thirty feet backward into the swimming pool, right into the middle of the zombie tourist famly.

"Ah!" the kids yelled in unison. "We are _not_ having a blast in the pool!"

One of the security guards drew his nightstick, but Annabeth knocked the wind out of him with a well-placed kick. The other guard ran for the nearest alarm box but I dove and tripped him before he could reach it.

"Quick, in the lifeboats!" I yelled.

We ran for the nearest one and got in. I quickly used my power over ship to lower the life boat into the water.


	10. We Fight a Monster Donuts' Hydra

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Fight a Monster Donut's Hydra**

"Thermos!" I yelled after cutting ropes once we hit the water

 _"What?"_ Annabeth responded since I had mine strapped to my belt.

But Tyson understood. He managed to open my duffel bag and take out Hermes' magical thermos without losing his grip on it.

I grabbed the thermos and hoped I was doing the right thing. "Hang on as tight as you can!"

I hook my feet under the boat's inflatable bench, and Tyson grabbed Annabeth and me by the back of our shirts. I gave the thermos cap a quarter turn.

Instantly, a white sheet of wind jetted out of the thermos and propelled us forward.

The wind seemed to laughed as it shot from the Thermos, like it was glad to be free. We were whizzing along like a speed boat, salt spray in our faces and nothing but sea ahead.

I heard a wail of outrage from the ship behind us, which I took that Luke found out. It didn't matter. We were outside their weapon range. The _Princess Andromeda_ faded to the size of a white toy boat in the distance, and then it was gone.

…

As we raced over the sea, Annabeth and I tried to send an Iris-message to Chiron. We figured it was important we let somebody know what Luke was doing, and we didn't know who else to trust. For all we know Tantalus could be the spy.

The wind from the thermos stirred up a nice sea spray that made a rainbow in the sunlight—perfect for an Iris-message—but our connection was still poor that or Chiron is having some difficulties with his _cousins_. When Annabeth threw a gold drachma into the mist and prayed for the rainbow goddess to show us Chiron, his face appeared all right, but there was some kind of weird strobe light flashing in the background and rock music blaring that almost reminded me of the Centaur's Prom but with a different theme.

We told him about sneaking away from camp for Hermes, and Luke and the _Princess Andromeda_ and the golden box for Kronos' remains, but between the noise on his end and the rushing wind and water on our end, I'm not sure how much he heard.

"Percy," Chiron yelled, "you have to watch out for—"

His voice was drowned out by loud shouting behind him—a bunch of voices whooping it up like Comanche warriors.

"What?" I yelled.

"Curse my relatives!" Chiron ducked as a plate flew over his head and shattered somewhere out of sight. "Annabeth, you shouldn't have let Percy leave camp! But if you _do_ get the Fleece—"

"Yeah, baby!" somebody behind Chiron yelled. "Woohooooooo!"

The music got cranked up, subwoofers so loud made our boat vibrate.

"—Miami," Chiron was yelling. "I'll try to keep watch—"

Our misty screen smashed apart like someone on the other side had thrown a bottle at it, and Chiron was gone.

…

An hour later we spotted land—a long stretch of beach lined with high-rise hotels. The water became crowded with fishing boats and tankers. A coast guard cruiser passed on our starboard side, then turned like it wanted a second look. I guess it isn't every day they see a yellow lifeboat with no engine going a hundred knots an hour manned by three kids."

It took me a while, but I realize I know that beach. "Is that—"

"Virginia Beach!" Annabeth responded as we approach the shoreline. "Oh my gods, how did the _Princess_ _Andromeda_ travel so far over night? That's like—"

"Five hundred and thirty nautical miles," I said.

Tyson tapped on my shoulder. "Other boat is coming."

I looked back. The coast guard vessel was definitely on our tail now. Its lights were flashing and it was gaining speed.

We needed to hide from it, and one place came to my mind.

Annabeth must have had the same idea because both of us said at the same time, "We need to get into the Chesapeake Bay."

I adjusted the thermos and loosen the lid a little more, and fresh burst of wind set us rocketing around the northern tip of Virginia Beach into Chesapeake Bay. The coast guard boat fell farther and farther behind. We didn't slow down until the shores of the bay narrowed on either side, and we entered the mouth of the James river.

I could feel the change from salt water to fresh water. If it wasn't for the fact that I been here before, I would probably be lost.

We veered into a swampy area choked with mashed grass.

I beached the lifeboat at the foot of a giant cypress. Even after six years, this place almost looked the same. The vine-covered trees that loomed above us. Insects chirred in the woods. Only difference was that the air was muggy and hot, and steamed curled off the river.

We grabbed our duffel bags covered the boat in branches and headed further into the shore.

"Not a good place," Tyson said. He swatted the mosquitoes that were forming a buffet line on his arm.

"Don't worry big guy, we're almost there," I responded.

Finally reached a patch a brambles that hides an old shelter. The very same shelter Thalia Luke Annabeth and I made the day—or rather night when we made it—Hal died and Annabeth joined us on our journey.

Inside was big enough for four people even one Tyson's size. The walls were woven from plant material, like a Native American hut, but they were waterproof. Stacked in the corner was everything you could want for a campout—sleeping bags, blankets, an ice chest and a kerosene lamp. There were demigod provisions too—bronze javelin tips, quiver full of arrows, an extra sword, a box of ambrosia, and some extra backpacks we kept in case something happened to the ones we carried. The place smelled musty due to being vacant for six years, but it still felt home.

I picked up the spare sword that was meant for Luke because—even now—it felt wrong in my hands.

"Hopefully Luke won't find us here," Annabeth responded.

"Why?" Tyson asked.

"I'll tell you later," I responded. "How about you go out and try to gather us some food."

"Okay!" Tyson responded cheering up and leaving.

I decided to use the time to pack some of the extra backpack with essential weapons—the vitamins, Hercules-theme Thermos, my water firing Thermos. No offense to Hermes, but right now I rather keep my weapons and magical gear on something easy to carry in case we have to leave our duffel bags. I also packed some of the stuff we had in the hideout in the backpack.

"Luke let us go too easy," I said.

Annabeth nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. What we over heard him say about a gamble, and 'they'll take the bait'… I think he was talking about us."

"And the Fleece the bait," I responded.

Annabeth nodded. "I just can't believe he would poison the tree."

"Me neither… then again, I wouldn't think he would try to kill me last year—or let Kronos try to at least," I responded. "I can't believe Thalia would agree with Luke either... I mean, at least…"

"At least what?" Annabeth asked.

"Zeus hasn't been the most direct caring father. That much I know, but Thalia always believed that it was Zeus that send Amalthea to lead Thalia to Luke, and again to lead us to Hal's mansion where Hal unknowingly kept Riptide and Aegis safe for Thalia and me."

Just then the door or of the hut creaked open and Tyson crawled in.

"Powdered donuts!" he said proudly, holding up a pastry box.

Annabeth and I stared at him.

"Where did you get that?" Annabeth asked, "We're in the middle of the wilderness. There's nothing for—"

"Fifty feet," Tyson said. "Monster Donut Shop—just over the hill!"

…

"This is bad," Annabeth muttered.

"You think?" I responded.

We were crouching behind a tree, staring at the donut shop in the middle of the woods. It looked brand new, with brightly lit windows, a parking area, and a little road leading off into the forest, but there was nothing else around, and no cars parked in the lot. We could see one employee reading a magazine behind the cash register. That was it. On the store's marquis, in huge black letters that even I could read, it said:

MONSTER DONUT

A cartoon ogre was taking a bite out of the _O_ in _MONSTER_. The place smelled good, like fresh-baked chocolate donuts. So what's the problem?

It shouldn't be here.

You know when you passed by an empty lot one day, no sign of construction or plans of a restaurant buying the place, and yet the next day, the lot is suddenly occupied by a store or restaurant? There's a reason for that.

You see the _shop_ we see is actually a monster's nest. Of course a monster can enter and leave without a problem (which Tyson apparently did since Cyclopes are considered as Monsters). These stores are normally linked to a life force of a monster. And there's one monster's life force these chains are most commonly linked too.

One thing they teach you in camp before you go out in the real world is to watch out for these instant chain restaurants.

"You think this is the sponsor Luke was talking about?" I asked.

"I don't know," Annabeth responded.

Tyson whimpered. I doubt he understood what Annabeth and I were saying, but our tone was making him nervous. He'd plowed through half a dozen donuts from his box and was getting powdered sugar all over his face and some on the spared backpack I brought.

Suddenly I heard scraping noise, like something large dragging it's belly through the leaves.

I slowly turned and saw a rhino-size monster moving through the shadows of the trees. It wasn't hissing, its front half writhing in all different directions. It had multiple necks—at least seven, each topped with a hissing reptilian head. Its skin was leathery, and under each neck it wore a plastic bib that read: I'M A MONSTER DONUT KID!

 _Great, the Hydra—another of Echidna's kids_ , I thought.

Last summer I barely survived fighting and killing the Chimera that Echidna herself sick on me.

I understood. A lot of monsters have terrible eyesight. It was possible the Hydra might pass us by. I reached in my pocket for Riptide but not take it our or uncapped it—just incase.

We waited.

The Hydra was only a few feet away. It seemed to be sniffing the ground and the trees like it was hunting for something. Then I noticed that two of the heads were ripping apart a piece of yellow canvas—one of our duffel bags. The thing already been to our campsite. It was following our scent.

My heart pounded. Each head was diamond-shaped, like a rattlesnake's but the mouths were lined with jagged rows of shark like teeth.

Tyson was trembling. He stepped back and accidentally snapped a twig. Immediately, all seven heads turned toward us and hissed.

"Scatter!" Annabeth yelled. She dove to the right.

I rolled to the left. One of the Hydra heads spat an arc of green liquid that shot past my shoulder and splashed against an elm. The trunk smoked and began to disintegrate. The whole tree toppled straight toward Tyson, who still hadn't moved, petrified by the monster that was now right in front of him.

"Tyson!" I tackled him with all my might, knocking him aside just as the Hydra lunged and the tree crashed on top of its heads.

The Hydra stumbled backward, yanking its heads free then wailing in outrage at the fallen tree. All seven heads shot acid, and the elm melted into a steaming pool of muck.

"Move!" I told Tyson. I ran to one side and uncapped Riptide, hoping to draw the monster's attention.

It worked.

The sight of celestial bronze is hateful to most monsters. As soon as my glowing blade appeared, the Hydra whipped toward it with all its heads, hissing and baring its teeth.

The good news: Tyson was momentarily out of danger. The bad news: I was about to be melted into a puddle of goo.

I remembered that Heracles took this monster down with fire. But we had _no_ fire.

One of the heads snapped at me experimentally and I manage to dodge it—trying to avoid using my sword since when you cut off one Hydra head, two more takes its place.

I took out my Celestial-bronze outer coated Thermos, uncapped it and focus my power, summoning a water blast which hit the Hydra.

However it did little good as the Hydra fired another spray of acid. I quickly dodged back toward the river. The Hydra followed.

Annabeth moved in on my left and tried to distract one of the heads, parrying its teeth with her knife, but another head swung sideways like a club and knocked her into the muck.

"No hitting my friends!" Tyson charged in, putting himself between the Hydra and Annabeth.

As Annabeth got to her feet, Tyson started smashing at the monster heads with his fist so fast it reminded me of the whack-a-mole game at the arcade. But even Tyson couldn't fend off the Hydra forever.

We kept inching backward, dodging acid splashes and deflecting snapping heads without cutting them off, but I knew we were only postponing our deaths. Eventually, we would make a mistake and the thing would kill us.

Then I heard a strange sound—a chug-chug-chug coming from the bay.

"What's that noise?" Annabeth shouted, keeping her eyes on the Hydra.

"Steam engine," Tyson said.

 _"What?"_ I ducked as the Hydra spat acid over my head.

Then from the river behind us, a familiar female voice shouted: "There! Prepare the thirty-two-pounder!"

I didn't dare look away from the Hydra, but if that was who I thought it was behind us, I figured we have help or we have enemies on two fronts.

A gravelly male voice said, "They're too close, m'lady."

"Darn the heroes!" the girl said. "Full steam ahead!"

"Aye, m'lady."

"Fire at will, Captain!"

Annabeth understood what was happening a split second before I did. She yelled, "Hit the dirt!" And we dove for the ground as an earth shattering _BOOM_ echoed from the river. There was a flash of light, a column of smoke, and the Hydra exploded right in front of us, showering us with nasty green slime that vaporized as soon as it hit, the way monster guts tend to do.

"Gross!" screamed Annabeth.

"Steamship!" yelled Tyson.

I stood, coughing from the cloud of gunpowder smoke that was rolling across the banks.

Chugging toward us down the river was the strangest ship I'd ever seen. It rode low in the water like a submarine, its deck plated with iron. In the middle was a trapezoid-shaped casemate with slats on each side for cannons. A flag waved from the top—a wild boar and spear on a blood red field. Lining the deck were zombies in gray uniforms—dead soldiers with shimmering faces that only partially covered their skulls, like the ghouls I'd seen in the Underworld guarding Hades' palace.

The ship was an ironclad. A Civil War battle cruiser. I could just make out the name along the prow in moss-covered letters: CSS _Birmingham_.

And standing next to the smoking cannon that had almost killed us, wearing full Greek battle armor, was Clarisse.

"I suppose I have to rescue you now," she sneered. "Come aboard."


	11. Clarisse Blows Up Everything

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **Clarisse Blows Up Everything**

"You are in _so_ much trouble," Clarisse said.

We'd just finished a ship tour we didn't want, through dark rooms overcrowded with dead sailors—my best guess were Confederates who died on this ship during the Civil War. We'd seen the coal bunker, the boilers and engine, which huffed and groaned like it would explode any minute. We'd seen the pilothouse and the powder magazine and gunnery deck (Clarisse's favorite) with two Dahlgren smoothbore cannons on the port and starboard sides and a Brooke nine-inch rifled gun fore and aft—all specially refitted to fire celestial bronze balls.

Everywhere we went, dead Confederate sailors stared at us, their ghostly bearded faces shimmering over their skulls. They approved of Annabeth because she told them she was from Virginia. They were interested in me, to because my last name was Jackson, like the Southern General and decease president Andrew Jackson. I didn't have the heart to tell them I was from New York, mostly because I didn't know if these guys still hold a grudge for New Yorkers since their deaths during the Civil War.

Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted Annabeth hold his hand much to Annabeth's slight annoyance.

Finally, we were escorted to dinner. The CSS _Birmingham_ captain's quarters were about the size of a walk-in closet, but still much bigger than any other room on board. The table was set with white linen and china. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, potato chips, and Dr. Peppers were served by skeletal crewmen. I didn't want to eat anything served by ghost, but my hunger overruled my fear.

"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse told us smugly. "Mr. D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he'll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV."

"Great," I grunted. "I take it Ares supplied you with this ship?"

Clarisse sneered. "That's right. The spirits on the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares. That's their curse for being defeated. I pray to my father for a naval transport and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them. Won't you, Captain?"

The captain stood behind her looking stiff and angry. His glowing green eyes fixed me with a hungry stare like he could tell I was from the north. "If it means an end to this infernal war, ma'am, peace at last, we'll do anything. Destroy anyone. I like that."

Tyson gulped.

"Clarisse," Annabeth said, "We're here because Hermes send us out to see Luke. We think he's after the Fleece, too. He's got the coordinates and he's heading south. He has a cruise ship full of monsters—"

"Good! I'll blow him out of the water."

"You don't understand," Annabeth said. "We have to combine forces. Let us help you—"

"No!" Clarisse pounded the table. "This is _my_ quest, smart girl! Finally _I_ get to be the hero, and you two will _not_ steal chance."

"No one is saying it isn't your quest," I responded, "We wouldn't have taken part of this quest if Hermes haven't visited me."

"I don't need you!" Clarisse argued.

"Clarisse," I said, "Tantalus is using you. He doesn't care about the camp. He'd love to see it destroyed. He's setting up to fail or worse he could be Luke's spy."

"No! I don't care what the Oracle—" She stopped herself.

"What?" I said. "What did the Oracle tell you?"

"Nothing," Clarisse's ears turned pink like Grover's does when he tries to lie. "All you need to know is that I'm finishing this quest and you're _not_ helping. On the other hand, I can't let you go…"

"So we're prisoners?" Annabeth asked.

"Guest. For now." Clarisse propped her feet up on the white linen tablecloth and opened another Dr. Pepper. "Captain, take them below. Assign them hammocks on the berth deck. If they don't mind their manners, show them how we deal with enemy spies."

…

We were led to bellow decks where the only bed we had were hammocks. Deciding there wasn't much we could do right now, we decided to get some sleep.

However, the dream came as soon as I fell asleep.

Grover was sitting at his loom, desperately unraveling his wedding train, when the boulder door rolled aside and the Cyclops bellowed, "Aha!"

Grover yelped. "Dear! I didn't—you were so quiet!"

"Unraveling!" Polyphemus roared. "So that's the problem!"

"Oh, no. I—I wasn't—"

"Come!" Polyphemus grabbed Grover around the waist and half carried, half dragged him through the tunnels of the cave. Grover struggled to keep his high heels on his hooves. His veil kept tilting on his head, threatening to come off.

The Cyclops pulled him into a warehouse-size cavern decorated with sheep junk. There was a wool-covered Lazy-Boy recliner and a wool-covered television set, crude bookshelves loaded with sheep collectibles—coffee mugs shaped like sheep faces, plaster figurines of sheep, sheep board games, and picture books with action figures. The floor was littered with piles of sheep bone, and other bones that didn't look exactly like sheep—the bones of satyrs who'd come to the island looking for Pan.

Polyphemus set Grover down long enough to move another huge boulder. Daylight streamed into the cave, and Grover whimpered with longing. Fresh air!

The Cyclops dragged him outside to a hilltop overlooking the most beautiful island I'd ever seen.

It was shaped kind of like a saddle cut in half by an ax. There were lush green hills on both sides and a wide valley in the middle, split by a deep chasm that was spanned by a rope bridge. Beautiful stream rolled to the edge of the canyon and dropped off in rainbow-colored waterfalls. Parrots fluttered in the trees. Pink and purple flowers bloomed on the bushes. Hundreds of sheep grazed in the meadows, their wool glinting strangely like copper and silver coins.

And at the center of the island, right next to the rope bridge was an enormous oak tree with something glittering in the lowest bough.

The Golden Fleece.

Even in a dream, I could feel its power radiating across the island, making the grass greener, the flowers more beautiful. I could almost smell the nature magic at work. I could only imagine how powerful the scent would be for a satyr.

Grover whimpered.

"Yes," Polyphemus said proudly. "See over there? Fleece is the prize of my collection! Stole it from heroes long ago, ever since—free food! Satyrs come from all over the world, like moths to flame. Satyrs good eating! And now—"

Polyphemus scooped up a wicked set of bronze shears.

Grover yelped, but Polyphemus just picked up the nearest sheep like it was a stuffed animal and shaved off its wool. He handed a fluffy mass of it to Grover.

"Put that on the spinning wheel!" he said proudly. "Magic. Cannot be unraveled."

"Oh… well…"

"Poor Honeypie!" Polyphemus grinned. "Bad weaver. Ha-ha! Not to worry. That thread will solve problem. Finish wedding train by tomorrow!"

This guy has to be the dumbest monster I met on this quest—skip that, second dumbest. I'm pretty sure Oreius could make this guy look smarter than he really is.

"Isn't that… thoughtful of you!"

"Hehe."

"But—but, dear," Grover gulped, "what if someone were to rescue—I mean attack this island?" Grover looked at me, and I knew he was asking for my benefit—a refresher course on the story of Polyphemus. "What would keep them from marching right up here to your cave?"

"Wifey scared! So cute! Not to worry. Polyphemus has state-of-the-art security system. Have to get through my pets."

"Pets?"

Grover looked across the island, but there was nothing to see except sheep grazing peacefully in the meadows.

I started to rack my brain around trying to remember if there were anything special about Polyphemus' sheep. I'm pretty sure they weren't your average sheep.

"And then," Polyphemus growled, "they would have to get through me!"

He pounded his fist against the nearest rock, which cracked and split in half. "Now, come!" he shouted. "Back to the cave."

Grover looked about ready to cry—so close to freedom, but so hopelessly far. Tears welled in his eyes as the boulder rolled shut, sealing him once again in the stinky torch-lit darkness of the Cyclops' cave.

…

I woke to alarm bells ringing throughout the ship.

The captain's gravelly voice: "All hands on deck! Find Lady Clarisse! Where is that girl?"

Then his ghostly face appeared above me. "Get up, boy. Your frends are already above. We are approaching the entrance of the sea of monsters."

…

I stuffed my few belongings that a saved before the Hydra attack into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. I had a sneaking suspicion that one way or another I would not be spending another night aboard the CSS _Birmingham_.

I was on my way upstairs when something made me freeze. A presence nearby—something familiar and unpleasant that makes me want to pick a fight with a dead Confederate. The last time I'd felt like that kind of anger…

Instead of going up, I crept to the edge of the ventilation grate and peered down into the boiler deck.

Clarisse was standing right below me, talking to an image that shimmered in the steam from the boilers—a muscular man in black leather biker clothes, with a military haircut, red-tinted sunglasses, and a knife strapped to his side.

My fists clenched. It was my least favorite Olympian: Ares, god of war.

"I don't want excuses, little girl!" he growled.

"Y-yes, father," Clarisse mumbled.

"You don't want to see me mad, do you?"

"No, father."

 _"No, father,"_ Ares mimicked. "You're pathetic. I should've let one of my _sons_ take this quest."

"I'll succeed!" Clarisse promised, her voice trembling. "I'll make you proud."

"You'd better," he warned. "You asked me for this quest, girl. If you let that slimeball Jackson kid steal it from you—"

"But the Oracle said—"

"I DON'T CARE WHAT IT SAID!" Ares bellowed with such force that his image shimmered. "You _will_ succeed. And if you don't…"

He raised his fist. Even though he was only a figure in the steam, Clarisse flinched.

"Do we understand each other?" Ares growled.

The alarm bells rang again. I heard voices coming toward me, officers yelling orders to ready the cannons.

I crept back from the ventilation grate and made my way upstairs to join Annabeth and Tyson on the spar deck.

…

"What's wrong?" Annabeth asked me. "Another dream?"

I nodded, but I didn't say anything. I don't know what to think what I'd seen downstairs. It bothered me almost as much as the dream about Grover.

Clarisse came up the right side after me. I tried not to look at her.

She grabbed a pair of binoculars from a zombie officer and peered toward the horizon. "At last. Captain, full steam ahead!"

I looked in the same direction as she was, but I couldn't see much. The sky was overcast. The air was hazy and humid, like steam from an iron. If I squinted real hard, I could just make out a couple of dark fuzzy splotches in the distance.

My nautical senses told me we were somewhere off the coast of northern Florida, so we'd come a long way overnight, farther than any mortal ship should've been able to travel.

The engine groaned as we increased speed.

Tyson muttered nervously, "Too much strain on the pistons. Not meant for deep water."

"Great," I muttered.

After a few more minutes, the dark splotches ahead of us came into focus. To the north, a huge mass of rock rose out of the sea—an island with huge cliffs at least a hundred feet tall. About half a mile south of that, the other patch of darkness was a storm brewing. The sky and sea boiled together in a roaring mass.

"Hurricane?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Clarisse said. "Charybdis."

Annabeth paled. "Are you crazy?"

"Only way into the Sea of Monsters. Straight between Charybdis and her sister Scylla." Clarisse pointed to the top of the cliffs, and I got the feeling something lived up there that I didn't want to meet.

"Great—two more of my half-siblings of mine I wanted to meet," I said sarcastically.

"What about the Clashing Rocks?" Annabeth said, "That's another gateway. Jason used it."

"If memory serves me right, we have to test it out before passing through it," I responded.

"I can't blow apart rocks with my cannons," Clarisse said. "Monsters, on other hand…"

"If we're not taking the clashing rocks, then couldn't we at least sail through the narrow pathway between Charybdis' sucking zone and Scylla's grabbing range?" I asked. "That's how Odysseus did it?"

"We're going my way and that's final," Clarisse said, "Set course to Charybdis!"

"Aye, m'lady."

Engine groaned, the iron plating rattled, and the ship began to pick up speed.

"Clarisse," I said, "Charybdis sucks up the sea and spits it out. Scylla is known for grabbing ships if she doesn't get her meat. I think it's best off we either use Odysseus' way or Jason's way of entering."

"Shut it Jackson! I'm leading this quest, and I been wanting to be the first to blow up a monster with civil war cannons," Clarisse responded

"Just yesterday you blew up a Hydra!" Annabeth responded.

Clarisse didn't listen to reason after that, but I have a feeling she wanted to destroy Charybdis for her father. After all, no one had defeated Charybdis. But there's a reason for it, and we're about to experience it first-hand.

The engine hummed. The boilers were heating up so much I could feel the deck getting warm beneath my feet. The smokestacks billowed. The red Ares flag whipped in the wind.

As we got closer to the monsters, the sound of Charybdis got louder and louder—a horrible wet roar like the galaxy's toilet being flushed. Every time Charybdis inhaled, the ship shuddered and lurched forward. Every time she exhaled, we rose in the water and were buffeted by ten-foot waves.

I tried to time the whirlpool. As near as I could figure, it took Charybdis about three minutes to suck up and destroy everything within a half-mile radius. To avoid her, we wound have to skirt just far enough from Charybdis while keeping our distance from Scylla. Most would think this is impossible, and at the most part it is. These two monsters—plus the fact that the clashing rocks is the only _known_ safest place to enter and even with that you would have to time perfectly to bypass the moving rocks—are where the saying _finding yourself between a rock and a hard place_ came from.

Undead soldiers calmly went about their business on the spar deck. I guess they'd fought a losing cause before, so this didn't bother them. Or maybe they didn't care about getting destroyed because they were already deceased. Neither thought made me feel any better.

Annabeth stood next to me, gripping the rail. "You still have your thermos full of wind?"

I nodded. "But it's too dangerous to use with a whirlpool like that. More wind might just make things worse."

"What about controlling the water?" she asked. "You're Poseidon's son. You've done it before."

I closed my eyes and tried to calm the sea, but I couldn't.

I shook my head miserably. "Charybdis must be stronger than even me. The most I can do is move the ship," I responded, "Even with Clarisse on our side, with the condition of this ship, I doubt I would be able to move it anywhere safe. Tyson's right. The CSS _Birmingham_ is not meant for sea travel."

"Engine's no good," Tyson agreed, "Pressure. Piston needs fixing."

Charybdis roared and started sucking everything in a giant whirlpool including the ship.

"Full reverse!" Clarisse screamed above the noise. The se churned around us, waves crashing over the deck. Iron plating was now so hot it steamed. "Get us within firing range! Make ready starboard cannons!"

Dead Confederates rushed back and forth. The propeller grinded into reverse, trying to slow the ship, but we kept slipping toward the center of the vortex.

A zombie sailor burst out of the hold and ran to Clarisse. His gray uniform was smoking. His beard was on fire. "Boiler room overheating, ma'am! She's going to blow!"

"Well, get down there and fix it!"

"Can't!" the sailor yelled. "We're vaporizing in the heat."

Clarisse pounded the side of the casemate. "All I need is a few minutes! Just enough to get in range!"

"We're going in too fast," the captain said grimly. "Prepare yourself for death."

"No," Tyson bellowed. "I can fix it."

Clarisse looked at him incredulously. "You?"

"He's a Cyclops," Annabeth said. "He's immune to fire. And he knows mechanics."

"Go!" yelled Clarisse.

Before Tyson left I grabbed his arm. "Once the engine is fix, get back here!"

Tyson nodded and followed the smoldering sailor down the hatch. The ship lurched again and I got a good view of my half-sister.

Now there are some paternal half-siblings I'm proud to say I'm related to, even if some of their mothers are not my favorite people: the Immortal Pegasus, Arion the immortal horse, and Tyson. But there are some that I can't believe I'm related to at all: Polyphemus being one. Charybdis stands in the middle of the two list since I know this was a faith put on her.

She appeared only a few hundred yards away, through a swirl of mist and smoke and water. The first thing I noticed was a reef—a black crag of coral with a fig tree clinging to the top, an oddly peaceful thing in the middle of a maelstrom. All around it, water curved into a funnel, like light around a black hole. Then I saw the horrible thing anchored to the reef just below the waterline—an enormous mouth with slimy lips and mossy teeth the size of rowboats. And the teeth had braces, bands of corroded scummy metal pieces of fish and driftwood and floating garbage stuck between them.

Charbdis was nothing but a huge black maw with bad teeth aligned and a serious overbite. As I watched, the entire sea around her was sucked into the void—sharks, school of fish, and a giant squid. And I realized that in a few seconds we would be next.

"Lady Clarisse," the captain shouted. "Starboard and forward guns are in range!"

"Fire!" Clarisse ordered.

Three rounds were blasted into the monster's maw. One blew off the edge of an incisor. Another disappeared into her gullet. The third hit one of the Charybdis' retaining bands and shot back at us, snapping the Ares flag off its pole.

"Again!" Clarisse ordered. The gunners reloaded, but I knew it was hopeless. We would have to pound the monster a hundred more times to do any real damage, and we didn't have that long. We were being sucked in too fast.

Then the vibrations on the deck changed. The hum of the engine got stronger and steadier. The ship shuddered and we were pulling away from the mouth.

"Tyson did it!" Annabeth said.

"Wait!" Clarisse said. "We need to stay close!"

"No, we _have_ to move away," I responded.

I gripped the rail and used my powers to guide the ship against the suction. The broken Ares flag raced past us and lodge in Charybdis braces. I wasn't able to pull it away completely, but thanks to Tyson, I can keep the ship from being sucked in.

Suddenly, the mouth snapped shut. The sea died to absolute calm. Water crashed over Charybdis.

Then, just as quickly as it had closed, the mouth exploded open, spilling out a wall of water, ejecting everything inedible, including our cannonballs, one of which slammed into the side of the CSS _Birmingham_ with a ding like a bell on a carnival game.

We were thrown backward on a wave that must've been forty feet high. I used all my will power to keep the ship from capsizing, but we were still spinning out of control, hurtling toward the cliffs of Scylla.

Another smoldering sailor burst out of the hold. He stumbled into Clarisse, almost knocking them both overboard. "The engine is about to blow!"

"Where's Tyson?" I demanded.

"Still down there," the said sailor said. "Holding it together somehow, though I don't know for how much longer."

The captain said, "We have to abandon ship."

"No!" Clarisse yelled.

"We have no choice, m'lady. The hull is already cracking apart! She can't—"

He never finished his sentence. Quick as lightning something brown and green shot from the sky, snatched up the captain, and lifted him away. All that was left were his leather boots.

"Scylla!" a sailor yelled as another column of reptilian flesh shot from the cliffs and snapped him up. It happened so fast it was like watching laser beam rather than a monster. I couldn't even make out the thing's face, just a flash of teeth and scales.

"Everyone the lifeboats!" Annabeth yelled.

"They'll never get cleared from the cliffs!" Clarisse said. "We'll all be eaten."

"We have to try. Percy, give me the Thermos," Annabeth said.

I nodded and took off my backpack. I took out my Thermos-of-sea before tossing it to Annabeth.

Clarisse took Annabeth's command. She and a few of her undead sailors uncovered one of the two emergency rowboats while Scylla's head rained from the sky like a meteor shower with teeth, picking off Confederate sailors one after another.

"Get the other boat," I told Annabeth. "I'll get Tyson!"

"You can't!" she said, the heat will kill you!"

I didn't listen. I ran for the boiler room hatch, when suddenly my feet weren't touching the deck anymore. I was flying straight up, the wind whistling in my ears, the side of the cliff only inches from my face

Scylla had somehow caught me, and was lifting me up toward her hair. I quickly uncapped Riptide and did an upward jab. I must have hit Scylla's beady yellow eyes, because she grunted and dropped me.

I took out my Thermos-of-the-sea and uncapped it—planning to fire a jet of water toward the ship that I was falling toward. But before I could react, the CSS _Birmingham_ exploded below me.

KAROOM!

The engine room blew, sending chunks of ironclad flying in either direction like a fiery set of wings.

"Tyson!" I yelled.

The lifeboats had managed to get away from the ship, but not very far. Flaming wreckage was raining down. Clarisse and Annabeth would either be smashed or burned or pulled to the bottom by the force of the sinking hull if they didn't get caught by Scylla.

Then I heard a different kind of explosion—the sound of Hermes' magic Thermos-of-wind being opened a little too far. White sheets of wind blasted in every direction, scattering the lifeboats, lifting me out of my free fall and propelling me across the ocean.

I couldn't see anything. I spun in the air, got clonked on the head of something hard, and hit the water with a crash that would've broken every bone in my body if I hadn't been the son of the Sea God.

I wanted to reach Tyson, but something in my gut told me I wouldn't have reached my brother in time. I couldn't help but stay in the sea grieving.


	12. We Checked Into CC's Spa & Resort

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Checked In To C.C.'S Spa & Resort**

I woke in a rowboat with a makeshift sail stitched of gray uniform fabric. Annabeth sat next to me, tacking into the wind.

I tried to sit up and immediately felt woozy.

"Rest," she said. "You're going to need it."

"Tyson…?"

She shook her head. "Percy, I'm really sorry."

We were silent while the waves tossed us up and down.

"He may have survived," she said halfheartedly. "I mean, fire can't kill him."

I nodded, but I had no reason to feel hopeful. I'd seen that explosion rip through solid iron. If Tyson had been down in the boiler room, there was no way he could've lived. He'd given his life for us.

Waves lapped at the boat. Annabeth showed me somethings she salvaged from the wreckage—Hermes' thermos (now empty) a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia, a couple of sailor shirts, and bottle of Dr. Pepper. She handed me back my backpack which had everything I filled it with back in the hideout.

We sailed for hours. Now we were in the Sea of Monsters, the water glittered a more brilliant green, like Hydra acid. The wind smelled fresh and salty, but it carried a strange metallic scent, too—as if a thunderstorm were coming. Or something even more dangerous. I knew what direction we needed to go. I knew we were exactly one hundred thirteen nautical miles west by northwest of our destination. But that didn't make me feel any less lost.

No matter which way we turned, the sun seemed to shine straight into my eyes. We took turns sipping from the Dr. Pepper, shading ourselves with the sail as best as we could. And we talked about my latest dream of Grover.

By Annabeth's estimate, we had less than twenty-four hours to find Grover, assuming my dream was accurate, and assuming the Cyclops Polyphemus didn't change his mind and try to marry Grover earlier.

"Yeah," I said bitterly. "We can't trust that Cyclops."

Annabeth stared across the water. "I'm sorry, Percy. I realize you were right about Tyson. I just wish I could tell him that."

I smiled. I knew it takes a lot for Annabeth to admit when she's wrong.

I looked down at my possessions. I remembered what Luke said and decided now was the time to ask about the prophecy.

"Annabeth, what did the great prophecy said?" I asked.

She pursed her lips. "Percy, you of all people should know the risk of knowing the future," Annabeth responded.

How can I forget? I saw Hal get punished just for saving a life of an innocent from her fate. Even Hal was cautious about telling me about my future—saying that it was risky.

"Just give me a brief summary then," I responded.

Annabeth twisted her Yankees cap in her cap in her hands. "The prophecy warns about a half-blood child of the Big Three—the next one who lives to the age of sixteen. That's the real reason Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades swore a pact after World War II not to have any more kids. The next child of the Big Three who reaches the age of sixteen will decide whether either to save the Age of the Gods or destroy it."

I let that sink in. That's why the Olympians kept voting whether or not to kill me every winter solstice, and why Kronos would want me to join him.

But then I frowned. I remembered Hal's predictions like it was yesterday. He said I would be _one of_ the greatest heroes of my generation. Did Hal meant because I might save Olympus? If so, why didn't he mention a decision? He gave small details of Thalia's and Luke's predictions but still more than what he told me of mine..

"Don't worry about it," Annabeth said. "We wouldn't know for sure until you're sixteen."

"Right," I responded.

Just then a seagull swooped down out of nowhere and landed on our makeshift mast. Annabeth looked startled as the bird dropped a small cluster of leaves into her lap.

"Land," she said. "There's land nearby!"

I sat up. Sure enough, there was a line of blue and brown in the distance. Another minute and I could make out an island with a small mountain in the center, a dazzling white collection of buildings, a beach dotted with palm trees, and a harbor filled with a strange assortment of boats.

The current was pulling our rowboat toward what looked like a tropical paradise.

…

"Welcome!" said the lady with a clipboard.

She looked like a flight attendant—blue business suit, perfect makeup, hair pulled back in a ponytail. She shook our hands as we stepped onto the dock. With a dazzling smile she gave us, you would've thought we'd just gotten off the _Princess Andromeda_ rather than a banged-up rowboat.

Then again, our rowboat wasn't the weirdest ship in port. Along with a bunch of pleasure yachts, there was a U.S. Navy submarine, several dugout canoes, and an old-fashioned three mast sailing ship. There was a helipad with a "Channel Five Fort Lauderdale" helicopter on it, and a short runway with a Learjet and propeller plane that looked like a World War II fighter. This was making me uneasy. I heard stories of ships and planes entering the Bermuda Triangle and never return, and knowing that the Bermuda Triangle was the Sea of Monsters didn't help.

"Is this your first time with us?" the clipboard lady inquired. Annabeth and I exchange looks. Annabeth said, "Umm…"

"First—time—at—spa," the lady said as she wrote on her clipboard. "Let's see…"

She looked us up and down critically. "Mmm. An herbal wrap to start for the young lady. And of course, a complete makeover for the young gentleman."

"A what?" I asked.

She was too busy jotting down notes to answer.

"Right!" she said with a breezy smile. "Well, I'm sure C.C. will want to speak with you personally before the luau. Come, please."

Now here's the thing. Annabeth and I were used to traps. Last year alone we walked into Medusa's Lair due to the smell of hamburgers and the fact we were hungry. We also went inside the lair of Procrustes to hide from gangsters. We even were drawn into the Lotus Casino and Hotel to rest and enjoy ourselves just to find out that it was the Lair of the Lotus Eaters magically enchanted that made it seem to us only a few hours passed when in reality five days passed.

We ended up following the lady anyway. I kept my hands in my pockets where I stashed Hermes' multivitamins and Riptide—but the farther we wandered into the resort, the more I forgot about them.

The place was amazing. There was white marble and blue water everywhere I looked. Terraces climbed up the side of the mountain, with swimming pools on every level, connected by waterslides and waterfalls and underwater tubes you could swim through. Fountains sprayed water into the air, forming impossible shapes, like flying eagles and galloping horses.

Tyson loved horses, and I knew he'd loved those fountains. I almost turned around to see the expression on his face before I remembered: Tyson was gone.

"You okay?" Annabeth asked me. "You look pale."

"I'm okay," I lied. "Just… let's keep walking."

We passed all kinds of tame animals. A sea turtle napped in a stack of beach towels. A leopard stretched out asleep on the diving board. The resort guests—only young women as far as I could see—lounged in deck chairs, drinking fruit smoothies or reading magazines while herbal gunk dried on their faces and manicurists in white uniforms did their nails.

As we headed up the staircase toward what looked like the main building, I heard a woman singing. Her voice drifted through the air like a lullaby. Her words were in some language other than Ancient Greek, but just as old—Minoan, maybe, or something like that. I could understand what she sang about—moonlight in the olive grooves, the colors of the sunrise. And magic. Something about magic. Her voice seemed to lift me off the steps and carry me toward her.

We came into a big room where the whole front wall was windows. The back wall was covered in mirrors, so the room seemed to go on forever. There was a bunch of expensive-looking white furniture, and on a table in one corner was a large wire pet cage. The cage seemed out of place, but I didn't think about it too much, because just then I saw the lady who'd been singing… and whoa.

She sat at the loom the size of a big screen TV, her hands weaving colored thread back and forth with amazing skill.

The tapestry shimmered like it was three dimensional—a waterfall scene so real I could see the water moving and clouds drifting across a fabric sky.

Annabeth caught her breath. "It's beautiful."

The woman turned. She was prettier than her fabric. Her long dark hair was braided with threads of gold. She had piercing green eyes and she wore a silky black dress with shapes that seemed to move in the fabric: animal shadows, black upon black, like deer running through a forest at night.

"You appreciate weaving, my dear?" the woman asked.

"Oh, yes, ma'am!" Annabeth said, "My mother is—"

She stopped herself. Annabeth knew better than going around announcing your mom was Athena, the goddess who invented the loom; just as I couldn't go around saying my dad is Poseidon, the god who created horses. Most people would lock us up in a rubber room.

Our hostess just smiled. "You have good taste, my dear. I'm so glad you've come. My name is C.C."

The animals in the corner cage started squealing. They must've been guinea pigs, from the sound of them

We introduced ourselves to C.C. She looked me over with a twinge of disapproval, as if I'd failed some kind of test.

On normal circumstances I would think this is weird or if she was like the Hunters of Artemis—a bunch of men hating girls who rather choose immortality than falling in love with men. But for some reason instead, I felt bad, like I really wanted to please this lady.

"Oh, dear," she sighed. "You _do_ need my help."

"Ma'am?" I asked.

C.C. called to the lady in the business suit. "Hylla, take Annabeth on tour, will you? Show her what we have available. The clothing will need to change. And the hair, my goodness. We will do a full image consultation after I spoken with this young gentleman."

"But…" Annabeth's voice sounded hurt. "What's wrong with my hair?"

C.C. smiled benevolently. "My dear, you are lovely. Really! But you're not showing off yourself or your talents at all. So much wasted potential!"

"Wasted?"

"Well, surely you're not happy with the way you are! My goodness, there's not a single person who is. But don't worry. We can improve anyone here at the spa. Hylla will show you what I mean. You, my dear, need to unlock your true self!"

Annabeth's eyes glowed with longing. I'd never seen her so much loss for words. "But… what about Percy?"

"Oh, definitely," C.C. said, giving me a sad look. "Percy requires my personal attention. He needs _much_ more work than you."

Normally I would be angry and suspicious about this, but the way C.C. said it, it made me feel sad. I'd disappointed her. I had to figure out how to do better.

The guinea pigs squealed like they were hungry.

"Well…" Annabeth said. "I suppose…"

"Right this way dear," Hylla said. And Annabeth followed herself to be led away into the waterfall-laced gardens of the spa.

C.C. took my arm and guided me toward the mirror wall. "You see, Percy… to unlock your potential, you need serious help. The first step is admitting that you're not happy the way you are."

I fidgeted in front of mirror. Sure, I have my father's hair and eyes is part of reminder to myself that I'm the son of the sea god, but since I'm a teenage half-blood, I also have to face the awkwardness of a mortal teenager—pimples, having even teeth, etch.

C.C.'s voice brought all the things that is all part of _growing up_ that I never quite enjoyed, as if she were passing me under the microscope, and standing in front of her mirrors didn't help.

"There, there," C.C. consoled. "How about we try… this."

She snapped her fingers and a sky blue curtain rolled down the mirror. It shimmered like the fabric on her loom.

"What do you see?" C.C. asked.

I looked at the blue cloth, not sure what she mean. "I don't—"

Then it changed colors. I saw myself—a reflection, but not a reflection. Shimmering there on the cloth was a better looking Percy Jackson—with a confident smile, straight teeth, no zits, perfect tan, a couple inches taller. It was me, without the faults.

"Whoa," I managed.

"Do you want that?" C.C. asked. "Or shall I try a different—"

"No," I said. "That's… that's amazing. Can you really—"

"I can give you a full makeover," C.C. promised.

I frowned. This sounds too good to be true. "What's the catch?" I said.

"Oh there's no catch," C.C. said, "Just eat plenty of fresh fruit, a mild exercise program, and of course… this."

She stepped over to her wet bar and filled a glass with water. Then she ripped open a drink-mix packet and poured in some red powder. The mixture began to glow. When it faded, the drink looked just like a strawberry milk shake.

"One of these, substituted for a regular meal," C.C. said. "I guarantee you'll see the results immediately."

"How is that possible?"

She laughed. "Why question it? I mean, don't you want the perfect you right away?"

Something about this was familiar—something from one of Hal's books.

"Why are there no guys at this spa?" I asked.

"Oh, but there are," C.C. assured me. "You'll meet them quite soon. Just try the mixture. You'll see."

I back away from the drink.

"Now, Percy," C.C. chided. "The hardest part of the makeover process is giving up control. You have to decide: Do you want to trust _your_ judgment about what you should be, or _my_ judgment?"

Something about her voice seem to be drawing me in. The sensation felt familiar but I can place my finger on it, I heard myself say, "Your judgement."

C.C. smiled and handed me the glass. I lifted it to my lips.

It tasted just like it looked—like a strawberry milk shape. Almost immediately a warm feeling spread through my gut: pleasant at first, then painfully hot, searing, as if the mixture were coming to a boil inside of me.

I doubled over and dropped the cup. "What have you… what's happening?"

"Don't worry, Percy," C.C. said. "The pain will pass. Look! As I promised. Immediate results."

Something was horribly wrong.

The curtain dropped away, and in the mirror I saw my hands shriveling, curling, growing long delicate claws. Fur sprouted from my face, under my shirt, in every uncomfortable place you can imagine. My teeth felt too heavy in my mouth. My clothes were getting too big, or C.C. was getting to tall—no, I was shrinking.

In one awful flash, I sank into a cavern of dark cloth. I was buried in my own shirt. I tried to run but hands grabbed me—hands as big as I was. I tried to scream for Annabeth, but all that came out of my mouth was, _"Reeet, reeet, reeet!"_

The giant hands squeezed me around the middle, lifting me into the air. I struggled and kicked with legs and arms that seemed much too stubby, and I was staring, horrified into the enormous face of C.C.

"Perfect!" her voice boomed. I squirmed in alarm, but she only tightened her grip around my furry belly. "See, Percy? You've unlocked your true self!"

She held me up to the mirror, and I didn't like what I saw. There was C.C., beautiful and smiling, holding a fluffy, bucktoothed creature with tiny claws and white and orange fur. When I twisted, so did the critter in the mirror."

"You're a guinea pig," C.C. said. "Lovely aren't you? Men are pigs, Percy Jackson. I used to turn them into _real_ pigs, but they were so smelly and large and difficult to keep. Not much different than they were before, really. Guinea pigs are much more convenient! Now come, and meet the other men."

I tried to bite and scratch her. It was the only thing I could do. However, C.C. squeezed me so tight I almost blacked out.

"None of that, little one," she scolded, "or I'll feed you to the owls. Go into the cage like a good little pet. Tomorrow, if you behave, you'll be on your way. There is always a classroom in need of a new guinea pig.

Oh, she's so lucky I can't get to my sword right now.

I squirmed helplessly as C.C. brought me over to the guinea cage and opened the wire door.

"Meet my discipline problems, Percy," she warned. "They'll never make good classroom pets, but they might teach you some manners. Most of them have been in this cage for three hundred years. If you don't want to stay with them permanently, I'd suggest you—"

Annabeth's voice called: "Miss C.C.?"

C.C. cursed in ancient Greek. She plopped me into the cage and closed the door. I squealed and clawed at the bars, but it was no good. I watched as C.C. hurriedly kicked my clothes under the loom—not noticing the six beads of my Camp Half-Blood's beaded necklace was sticking out—just as Annabeth came in.

I almost didn't recognize her. She was wearing a sleeveless silk dress like C.C.'s, only white. Her blond hair was newly washed and combed and braided with gold. The oddest part was that she was wearing makeup. Out of the six years I knew her, I never seen Annabeth wear makeup. As good as Annabeth looks, this wasn't like her.

She looked around the room and frowned. "Where's Percy?"

I squealed up a storm, but she didn't seem to hear me. That—whatever I drank—must have messed up my demigod powers too, because I tried to summons some water that would identify me, but I couldn't.

C.C. smiled. "He's having one of our treatments, my dear. Not to worry. You looked wonderful! What did you think of your tour?"

Annabeth's eyes brightened. "Your library is amazing!"

"Yes, indeed," C.C. said. "The best knowledge of the past three millennia. Anything you want to study, anything you want to _be_ , my dear."

"An architect?"

"Pah!" C.C. said. "You, my dear, have the makings of a sorceress."

Annabeth took a step back. "A sorceress?"

"Yes, my dear." C.C. held up her hand. A flame appeared in her palm and danced across her fingertips. "My mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic. I know a daughter of Athena when I see one. We are not so different, you and I. We both seek knowledge. We both admired greatness. Neither of us needs to stand in the shadow of men."

"I—I don't understand."

Again, I squealed my best, trying to get Annabeth's attention, but she either couldn't hear me or didn't think the noises were important. Meanwhile, the other guinea pigs were emerging from their hutch to check me out. I didn't think it was possible for guinea pigs to look mean, but these did. There were half a dozen, with dirty fur and cracked teeth and beady red eyes. They were covered with shavings and smelled like they really had been in here for three hundred years, without getting their cage cleaned.

"Stay with me," C.C. was telling Annabeth. "Study with me. You can join our staff, become a sorceress, learn to bend others to your will. You will become immortal!"

"But—"

"You are too intelligent, my dear," C.C. said. "You know better than to trust that silly camp for heroes. How many great female half-blood heroes can you name?"

"Um, Atalanta, Amelia Earhart—"

"Bah! Men get all the glory." C.C. closed her fist and extinguished the magic flame. "The only way to power for women is sorcery. Medea, Calypso, now there were powerful women! And me, of course. The greatest of all."

"You… C.C.… Circe!"

"Yes, my dear."

She noticed my necklace under the loom.

"What have you done to Percy?"

"Only helped him realized his true form."

Annabeth scanned the room. Finally she saw the cage, and me scratching at the bars, all the other guinea pigs crowding around me. Her eyes went wide.

"Forget him," Circe said. "Joined me and learn the ways of sorcery."

"But—"

"Your friend will be well cared for. He'll be shipped to a wonderful new home on the mainland. The kindergartners will adore him. Meanwhile, you will be wise and powerful. You will have all you ever wanted."

Annabeth was still staring at me, but she had a dreamy expression on her face. She looked like whenever Drew Tanaka of Aphrodite Cabin use Charmspeak to bend people into doing whatever she wants, since Charmspeak is a rare ability that can basically charm people into doing just that. I squealed and scratched, trying to warn her to snap out of it, but I was absolutely powerless.

"Let me think about it," Annabeth murmured. "Just… give me a minute alone. To say good-bye."

"Of course, my dear," Circe cooed. "One minute. Oh… and so you have absolute privacy…" she waved her hand and iron bars slammed down over the windows. She swept out of the room and I heard the locks on the door click shut behind her.

The dreamy look melted off Annabeth's face.

She rushed over to my cage. "All right, which one is you?"

I squealed, but so did all the other guinea pigs. Annabeth looked desperate before getting a bright idea. She rushed over to where my necklace was at, push aside the loom, opened up my backpack and took out Hermes multivitamins and started struggling with the cap.

I had no idea what she was doing when Annabeth popped a lemon chewable in her mouth just as the door flew open and Circe came back in, flanked by two of her business-suited attendants.

"Well," Circe sighed, "how fast a minute passes. What is your answer, my dear?"

"This?" Annabeth said, and she drew her bronze knife.

The sorceress stepped back, but her surprise quickly passed. She sneered. "Really, little girl, a knife against _my_ magic? Is that wise?"

Circle looked back at her attendants, who smiled. They raised their hands as if preparing to cast a spell.

The other guinea pigs squealed and ran, but I stood my ground. I had the urge to run too, but I'm not about to lose Annabeth.

"What will Annabeth's makeover be?" Circe mused. "Something small and ill-tempered. I know… a shrew!"

Blue fire coiled from her fingers curling like serpents around Annabeth.

However nothing happened. Annabeth was still Annabeth, only angrier. She leaped forward and stuck the point of her knife against Circe's neck. "How about turning me into a panther instead? One that has her claws at her throat!"

"How!" Circe yelped.

Annabeth held up my bottle of vitamins for the sorceress to see.

That's when it dawned to me those vitamins must have had Moly in it—the plant stuff Hermes gave Odysseus before he confronted Circe.

Of course it dawned Circe too as she howled in frustration. "Curse Hermes and his multivitamins! Those are such a fad! They do _nothing_ for you."

"Turned Percy back to a human or else!" Annabeth said.

"I can't!"

"Then you asked for it."

Circe's attendants stepped forward, but their mistress said, "Get back! She's immune to magic until that cursed vitamins wears off."

Annabeth dragged Circe over to the guinea pig cage, knocked the top off, and poured the rest of the vitamins inside.

"No!" Circe screamed.

I was the first to get a vitamin, but all the other guinea pigs scuttled out, too, and checked out this new food.

The first nibble, and I felt all fiery inside. I gnawed at the vitamin until it stopped looking so huge, and the cage got smaller, and then suddenly, _bang!_ The cage exploded. I was sitting on the floor, a human again—somehow back in my regular clothes with my back pack on my back and necklace around my neck. Good thing too, because good or bad or friend or enemy; I didn't want to transform back into human without my clothes in front of a bunch of girls.

I wasn't the only one who was human again. The other six guinea pigs had transform into humans as well—all looking disoriented, blinking and shaking wood shaving out of their hair.

"No!" Circe screamed. "You don't understand! Those are the worst!"

One of the men stood up—a huge guy with long tangled pitch black beard and teeth the same color. He wore mismatched clothes of wool and leather, knee-length boots, and a floppy felt hat. The other men were dressed more simply—in breeches and stained white shirts. All of them were barefoot.

"Argggh!" bellowed the big man. "What's the witch done t'me!"

"No!" Circe moaned.

Annabeth gasped. "I recognize you! Edward Teach, son of Ares?"

"Aye, lass" the big man growled. "Though most call me Blackbeard! And there's the sorceress what captured us, lads. Run her through, and then I mean to find me a big bowl of celery! Argggh!"

Circe screamed. She and her attendants ran from the room, chased by pirates.

Annabeth sheathed her knife before tackling me into a quick hug before pulling away. "I'm glad you're not a guinea pig."

"Me, too." I hoped my face wasn't as red as it felt.

She undid the golden braids in her hair.

"Come on, Seaweed Brain," she said. "We have to get away while Circe's distracted."

…

We ran down the hillside through the terraces, past screaming spa workers and pirates ransacking the resort.

Blackbeard's men broke the tiki torches for the luau, threw the herbal wraps into the swimming pool, and kicked over tables.

I felt bad for some of the workers that when I saw that Hylla girl who was guarding a girl that looked like a younger version of her being, I decided to act.

Now I didn't know if the rest of Blackbeard pirates were demigods, so I didn't risk using Riptide. Instead, I draw out my sea-thermos, uncapped it, and summoned a blast of water at the Pirates—knocking him down and out. The two girls stared at me in shock. I quickly did a temporary Mist manipulation to make them look like someone who didn't work here.

"The Mist should keep you two safe from the Pirates until you get off and far from this island! I suggest you use it!" I warned.

Hylla stared at me as if she was trying to figure me out. However, the girl that I would guess was her sister tugged at her arm, as if suggesting they should leave and Hylla nodded and they scurried off.

I hurried back to Annabeth and we headed toward the docks. Annabeth didn't say it, but I think she was shock and impressed by my actions.

"Which ship?" Annabeth said as we reached the docks.

I looked around desperately. We couldn't very well take our rowboat—it was too slow. I don't want to risk flying. Then I saw it.

"There," I said pointing at the old three mast sailing ship with the name painted on the prow that I would only decipher later: _Queen Anne's Revenge_.

Annabeth didn't argue, since I have powers over boats and ships—most of the time.

"Argggh!" Blackbeard yelled somewhere behind us. "Those scalawags are a-boarding me vessel! Get 'em, lads!"

I closed my eyes and concentrated on controlling the wind and sea around the ship. I hope I can still do this. The last ship I controlled was a tireme and I haven't done that for a few years. "Mizzenmast!" I yelled.

The air was filled with whistling sounds of ropes being snapped taut, canvases unfurling, and wooden pulleys creaking.

Annabeth ducked as cable flew over her head and wrapped itself around the bowspirit.

I willed the sails to rise as easily as if I were flexing my arms. I willed the rudder to turn.

The _Queen Anne's Revenge_ lurched away from the dock, and by time the pirates arrived at the water's edge, we were already underway, sailing into the Sea of Monsters.


	13. We Survive the Siren's Song

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Survive the Siren's Song**

I wonder if children of Zeus have as much command over planes as children of Poseidon has over ships. I don't know since the only ones I met I never been on a plane with, or is right now trying to _let_ the camp be destroyed.

The _Queen Anne's Revenge_ responded to my every command. I knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer. We plowed through the waves at what I figured was about ten knots. I even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty darn fast. It probably was a war ship Ares gave Blackbeard.

It all felt perfect—the wind in my face, the waves breaking over the prow.

But now that we were out of danger, all I could think about was how much I missed Tyson, and how worried I was about Grover.

I couldn't get over how badly I'd messed up on Circe's Island. If it hadn't been for Annabeth, I'd still be a rodent, hiding in a hutch with a bunch of cute furry pirates. I thought about what Circe had said: _See, Percy? You've unlocked your true self!_

I still feel different. I had a sudden desire to eat lettuce. I felt jumpy, like the instinct to be a scared little animal. I haven't felt like this since I was on the run before meeting Thalia and Luke.

We sailed through the night.

Annabeth tried to help me keep lookout, but sailing didn't agree with her. After a few hours rocking back and forth, her face turned the color of guacamole and she went below to lie down in the hammock

I watched the horizon. More than once I spotted monsters. A plume of water as tall as a skyscraper spew into the moonlight. A row of green spines slithered across the waves—something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian. Maybe it was the Trojan Sea Monster—the Sea monster dad sent to attack the Trojans out of anger for the lack of respect for his help on the Trojan Wall.

I decided it was best to steer away from it and not find out.

Once I saw Nereids, the glowing lady spirits of the sea. I tried to wave at them, but they disappeared into the depths, leaving me unsure whether they'd seen me or not.

Sometime after midnight, Annabeth came up on deck. We were just passing a smoking volcano island. The sea bubbled and steamed around the shore. Hephaestus must be working on another automaton.

We decided it was best to steer away from it.

We sat on the deck, watching the Hercules constellation rise in the night sky.

"Go below," Annabeth told me at last. "You need some rest."

I nodded. My eyes were heavy. But when I got below and found a hammock, I fell asleep instantly.

…

I didn't dreamed about Grover.

Instead I found myself back in Luke's stateroom aboard the _Princess_ _Andromeda_. The curtains were open. It was nighttime outside. The air swirled with shadows. Voices whispered around me—spirits of the dead.

 _Beware_ , they whispered. _Traps. Trickery._

Kronos' golden sarcophagus glowed faintly—the only source of light in the room.

A cold laugh startled me. It seemed to come from miles below the ship. _You no longer have the courage, young one. You can't stop me._

I knew what I had to do. I had to open that coffin.

I uncapped Riptide. Ghost whirled around me like a tornado. _Beware!_

My heart pounded. I couldn't make my feet move, but I had to stop Kronos. I had to destroy whatever was in that box.

Then a familiar voice spoke right next to me: "Don't give up, Percy. You're stronger than you think."

I turned to see it was a girl in punk style clothes with the silver chain on her wrist that turns into a shield with a carving of Medusa on it—Aegis. She had spiky black hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy electric blue eyes, and a spray of freckles across her nose. _Thalia_.

"You've grown since you were that scared little kid Luke and I found," Thalia said, "Now show it!"

I felt a whole new amount of encouragement. Thalia summoned Aegis and her spear as we approached the coffin and opened the coffin.

But before I saw what was inside there was a golden light that blinded me with a cold laugh.

I sat bolt upright in my hammock.

Annabeth was shaking me. "Percy, you were having a nightmare. You need to get up."

"Wh—what is it?" I rubbed my eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Land," she said grimly. "We're approaching the island of the Sirens."

…

I could barely make out the island ahead of us—just a dark spot in the mist.

"I want you to do me a favor," Annabeth said. "The Sirens… we'll be in range of their singing soon."

I remember the stories about the Sirens. They sang so sweetly their voices enchanted sailors and lured them to their death.

"No problem," I assured her. "We can just stop up our ears. There's a big tub of candle wax below deck—"

"I want to hear them."

I blinked. "Why?"

"They say the Sirens sing the truth of what you desire. They tell you things about yourself you didn't even realize. That's what's so enchanting… you become wiser."

"Hal's book also mention that they use sailor's own fatal flaw against them," I responded.

"I just want to hear them, Percy. How often will I get that chance?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but Annabeth gave me her pleading look that makes it hard for me to argue.

"Fine, but I'm holding onto any weapon you have _including_ your knife so you won't break yourself free," I responded.

Annabeth opened her mouth as if wanting to protest but found herself speechless. I knew how possessive she is of her knife, especially after learning about its background, but she also know the risk of the sirens. Plus she also knows that I wouldn't do anything that would damage or break the knife.

"Fine!" Annabeth agreed unstrapping the sheath of her knife from her belt and handed it to me.

She told me the rest of her plan. Reluctantly, I helped her get ready.

As soon as the rocky coast line of the island came into view, I ordered one of the ropes to wrap around Annabeth's waist, tying her to the foremast.

"Don't untie me," she said, "no matter what happens or how much I plead. I'll want to go straight over the edge and drown me."

"I promise I'll keep you secure," I responded.

Then I took two large wads of candle wax, kneaded them into earplugs, and stuffed my ears.

Annabeth nodded sarcastically, letting me know the earplugs were a real fashion statement. I made a face telling her _remember I'm doing this for you_. Then I turned the pilot's wheel.

The silence was eerie. I couldn't hear anything but the rush of blood in my head. As we approached the island, jagged rocks loomed out of the fog. I willed the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ to skirt around them. If we sailed any closer, those rocks would shred our hull like blender blades.

I glanced back. At first, Annabeth seemed totally normal. Then she got a puzzled look on her face. Her eyes widened.

She strained against the ropes. She called my name—I could tell just from reading her lips. Her expression was clear: She had to get out. She seemed so miserable I struggle to keep the urge to cut her free.

I forced myself to look away. I urged the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ to go faster.

I still couldn't see much of the island—just mist and rocks—but floating in the water were pieces of wood and fiberglass, the wreckage of old ships, even some flotation cushions from airplanes.

There was a moment I was attempted to listen to the Siren's songs to see if what Annabeth said was true or not. I could feel the Siren's voices vibration in the timbers of the ship, pulsing along with the roar of blood in my ears.

Annabeth was pleading with me. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She strained against the ropes as if they were holding her back from everything she cared about.

 _How could you be so cruel?_ She seemed to be asking me. _I thought you were my friend._

I wonder if this is similar to what Odysseus' men went through when they had to watch Odysseus going through this.

At least I had Annabeth's knife with me, that way Annabeth wouldn't cut herself free.

The Sirens must have sense something wrong because now they were coming aboard. They were these ragged vultures with human faces and saw Annabeth tied up. It looked as if they were ready to cut her free

I uncapped Riptide and rushed toward the Sirens. I started slashing at the Sirens. Although my attentions was more of trying to keep the Sirens away, I actually destroyed a few of them while at it.

After that, I could tell the sirens tried to use my own fatal flaw against me. They transformed into the people I cared about: my mom, my dad, Tyson, Annabeth, Thalia, and even Luke. They try to speak—probably to lure me into their trance—but thanks to the earplugs I couldn't hear them.

 _They're not real_ , I thought. But I couldn't help but think that if the Sirens were showing me my fatal flaw: Personal Loyalty, then they must be showing Annabeth her fatal flaw: Deadly pride and since Annabeth's ears aren't plugged it must be worse for her.

 _I need to get rid of the Sirens,_ I thought.

A thought came into my mind, something I never tried before. I capped Riptide and placed it in my pocket. If I was going to deal with these Sirens, I raised both of my hands and focus. My stomach churned as two huge guise of water formed from the sea.

Then I focus on making the molecules in the water denser to form two giant hands. Sure enough the sea guessers formed hands. I stretch my hands forward before clapped my hands together as if grabbing something with both hands. The guesser-hands followed my hands movements—only toward the ship—and caught the Sirens. I pulled my hands close to me and then slammed the on the deck of the ship causing the guesser hands to pull the Sirens toward the sea and forcefully pulled them back into the ocean.

After a few minutes Annabeth blinked as if returning back to normal, only this time shock at what I just did. However I didn't cut her loose with her knife and removed the earplugs until after we were out of the sight of Siren's Island.

"Percy, how—what?" Annabeth asked.

"I'm not sure—" I responded. "So do you feel wiser?"

Annabeth gazed into the distance. "I'm not sure. But we _have_ to save the camp. If we don't stop Luke…"

She didn't need to finish. As much as I want to save Luke, we need to first make sure Kronos doesn't get anymore allies.

Suddenly Annabeth's eyes widened. "Percy."

I turned.

Up ahead was another blotch of land—a saddle-shaped island with forested hills and white beaches and green meadows—just like I'd seen in my dreams.

My nautical senses confirmed it. 30 degrees, 31 minutes north, 75 degrees, 12 minutes west.

We had reached the home of the Cyclops.


	14. We Meet The Sheep of Doom

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Meet The Sheep of Doom**

When you think "Monster Island," you think craggy rocks and bones scattered on the beach like the island of the Sirens.

Polyphemus' island was nothing like that. I mean, okay, it had a rope bridge across the chasm, which was not a good sign. You might as well put up a billboard that said, SOMETHING EVIL LIVES HERE. But except for that, the place looked like a Caribbean postcard. It had green fields and white beaches. As we sailed toward the shore, Annabeth breathed in the sweet air. "The Fleece," she said.

I nodded. I couldn't see the Fleece yet, but I could feel its power. I could believe it would heal anything, even Thalia's poisoned tree.

But at the same time Annabeth and I knew if we removed the Fleece from this island, the island would transform into whatever kind of place it was _before_ Polyphemus got his hand on the Fleece.

In the meadow at the bae of the ravine, several dozen sheep were milling around. They looked peaceful enough, but they were huge—the size of hippos. Just past them was a patch that led up into the hills. At the top of the path, near the edge of the canyon, was the massive oak tree I'd seen in my dreams. Something gold glittered in the branches.

Normally I would wonder, _where's the guardian that protect the Fleece?_ But another question came to my mind.

"Um Annabeth, you don't think those sheep are the same ones Odysseus had to bypass, do you?"

Annabeth opened her mouth to reply but before she did, a deer emerged from the bushes. It trotted into the meadow, probably looking for grass to eat, when the sheep all bleated at once and rushed the animal. It happened so fast that the deer stumbled and was lost in a sea of wool and trampling hooves.

Grass and tufts of fur flew into the air.

A second later the sheep all moved away, back to their regular peaceful wanderings. Where the deer had been was a pile of clean white bones.

That basically answered my questions. These sheep were the same meat eating sheep Odysseus and his men had to bypass while on this island.

"Percy!" Annabeth gasped, grabbing my arm. "Look."

She pointed down the beach, to just below the sheep meadow, where a small boat had been run aground… the other lifeboat from the CSS _Birmingham_.

…

We decided there was no way we could get past the man-eating sheep. Annabeth wanted to sneak up the path invisibly and grab the Fleece, but in the end I convinced her that something would go wrong. The sheep would smell her. Another guardian would appear. Something. And if that happened, I'd be too far away to help.

Besides our first job was to find Grover and maybe Clarisse or Tyson—if either one was in that lifeboat.

We moored the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ on the backside of the island where the cliff rose straight up a good two hundred feet. I figured the ship was less likely to be seen there.

The cliffs barely looked climbable—about as difficult as the lava wall back at camp. At least it was sheep free.

We rowed a lifeboat to the edge of the rocks and made our way up, very slowly. Annabeth went first and I soon followed.

Despite six years of climbing the lava wall, we still came close to dying six or seven times. Once, I lost my grip and I found myself dangling by one hand from the ledge fifty feet above the rocky surf. But I found another handhold and kept climbing. A minute later Annabeth hit a slippery patch of moss and her foot slipped. Fortunately, she found something else to put it against. Unfortunately that something was my face.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"S'okay," I grunted, though I'd never really wanted to know what Annabeth's sneaker tasted like.

Finally, when my fingers felt like molten lead and my arms muscles were shaking from exhaustion, we hauled ourselves over the top of the cliff and collapsed.

"Ugh," I said.

"Ouch," moaned Annabeth.

"Garrr!" bellowed another voice.

If I hadn't been so tired, I would've leaped another two hundred feet. I whirled around, but I couldn't see who'd spoken.

Annabeth clamped her hand over my mouth. She pointed.

The ledge we were sitting was narrower than I'd realized. It dropped off on the opposite side, and that's where the voice was coming from—right below us.

"You're a feisty one!" said the deep voice bellow.

"Challenge me!" Clarisse's voice, no doubt about it. "Give me back my sword and I'll fight you!"

The monster roared with laughter.

Annabeth and I crept to the edge. We were right above the entrance of the Cyclops' cave. Below us stood Polyphemus and Grover, still in his wedding dress. Clarisse was tied up, hanging upside down over a pot of boiling water. No sign of Tyson.

"Hmm," Polyphemus pondered. "Eat loudmouth girl now or wait for wedding feast? What does my bride think?"

He turned to Grover, who backed up and almost tripped over his completed bridal train. "Oh, um, I'm not hungry right now, dear. Perhaps—"

"Did you say _bride_?" Clarisse demanded. "Who—Grover?"

Next to me, Annabeth muttered, "Shut up. She has to shut up.

Polyphemus glowered. "What 'Grover'?"

"The satyr!" Clarisse yelled.

"Oh!" Grover yelped. "The poor thing's brain is boiling from that hot water. Pull her down, dear!"

Polyphemus' eyelids narrowed over his baleful milky eye, as if he were trying to see Clarisse more clearly.

The Cyclops was an even more horrible sight that he had been in my dreams. Partly because he rancid smell was now up close and personal. Partly because he was dressed in his wedding outfit—a crude kilt and shoulder-wrap, stitched together from baby blue tuxedoes, as if he'd skinned an entire wedding party.

"What satyr?" asked Polyphemus. "Satyrs are good eating. You bring me a satyr?"

"No, you big idiot!" bellowed Clarisse. " _That_ satyr! Grover! The one in the wedding dress!"

At this point I wanted to wring Clarisse's neck just to shut her up, but it was too late. All I could do was watch as Polyphemus turned and ripped off Grover's wedding veil—revealing his curly hair, his scruffy adolescent beard, and his tiny horns.

Polyphemus breathed heavily, trying to contain his anger. "I don't see very well," he growled. "Not since many years ago when the other hero stabbed me in eye. But YOU'RE—NO—LADY—CYCLOPS!"

The Cyclops grabbed Grover's dress and tore it away. Underneath, the old Grover appeared in his jeans and T-shirt. He yelped and ducked as the monster swiped over his head.

"Stop!" Grover pleaded. "Don't eat me raw! I—I have a good recipe!"

Polyphemus was hesitating, a boulder in his hand, ready to smash his would-be-bride.

"Recipe?" he asked Grover.

"Oh y-yes! You don't want to eat me raw. You'll get E coli and botulism and all sorts of horrible things. I'll taste much better grilled over a slow fire. With mango chutney! You could go get some mangos right now, down there in the woods. I'll just wait here."

The monster pondered this. My heart hammered against my ribs. There was no way I was going to let Grover die.

"Grilled satyr with mango chutney," Polyphemus mused. He looked back at Clarisse, still hanging over the pot of boiling water. "You a satyr, too?"

"No, you overgrown pile of dung!" she yelled. "I'm a girl! The daughter of Ares! Now untie me so I can rip your arms off!"

"Rip my arms off," Polyphemus repeated.

"And stuff them down your throat!"

"You got spunk."

"Let me down!"

Polyphemus snatched up Grover as if he were a wayward puppy. "Have to graze sheep now. Wedding postponed until tonight. Then we'll eat satyr for the main course!"

"But… you're still getting married?" Grover sounded hurt. "Who's the bride?"

Polyphemus looked toward the boiling pot.

Clarisse made a strangle sound. "Oh, no! You can't be serious. I'm not—"

Before Annabeth or I could do anything, Polyphemus plucked her off the rope like she was a ripe apple, and tossed her and Grover deep into the cave. "Make yourself comfortable! I come back at sundown for big event!"

Then the Cyclops whistled, and a mixed flock of goats and sheep—smaller than the man-eaters—flooded out of the cave and past their master. As they went to pasture, Polyphemus patted some on the back and called them by name—Beltbuster, Tamman, Lockhart, etc.

When the last sheep had waddled out, Polyphemus rolled a boulder in front of the doorway as easy as I would close a refrigerator door, shutting off the sound of Clarisse and Grover screaming inside.

"Mangos," Polyphemus grumbled to himself. "What are mangos?"

He strolled off down the mountain in his baby-blue groom's outfit, leaving us alone with a pot of boiling water and a six-ton boulder.

…

We tried for what seemed like hours, but it was no good. The boulder wouldn't move. We yelled into the cracks, tapped the rock, did everything we could think of to get a signal to Grover, but if he heard us, we couldn't tell. I would try to condense water into a hand and grab it, but one: we didn't know it would work and two: the closest source of water that I can use was strapped to my belt, and I'm not sure of I can create a hand large enough to move the thing.

Even if by some miracle we do kill Polyphemus, it wouldn't do us any good. Grover and Clarisse would die inside that sealed cave. The only way to move the rock was to have a Cyclops do it.

In total frustration, I stabbed Riptide against the boulder. Sparks flew, but nothing else happened.

Annabeth and I sat down on the ridge in despair and watched the distant baby-blue shape of Cyclops as he moved among his flock. For an idiot he had wisely divided his regular animals from his man-eating sheep, putting each group on either side of the huge crevice that divided the island. The only way across was the rope bridge, and the planks were much too far apart for sheep hooves.

We watched as Polyphemus visited his carnivorous flock on the far side. Unfortunately, they didn't eat him. He fed them chunks of mystery meat from a great wicker basket.

I shivered at the thought that at sundown Polyphemus marrying Clarisse and have Grover for dinner. It was bad enough just thinking that my friend is about to be eaten by a Cyclops, but now if Polyphemus married Clarisse, due to the fact that Polyphemus is my half-brother, Clarisse would become my sister-in-law.

Let's just say when I use to ask my dad for a sibling when I was younger, neither Polyphemus nor Clarisse was something I had in mind.

"Trickery," Annabeth decided. "We can't beat him by force, so we'll have to use trickery, especially after he moved the rock at sundown."

"We could always use the trick Odysseus used," I responded.

"Yeah—you could—" Annabeth said.

I didn't like the sound of that.

…

"When I said we could use Odysseus' trick, I didn't mean _this_ ," I complained.

I had crawled under Polyphemus' smallest sheep—which was still pretty big—twirled and stuff into handles for my hands and hooked my feet against the sheep's thigh so I can get a free ride while at the same time trying to keep wool out of my mouth and my nose. What's worse is that the sheep's underbelly smelled like a winter sweater that's been dragged through the mud and left in the laundry hamper for a week. But that's not what I was complaining about.

What I was complaining about was the fact that only I had to ride this thing while Annabeth gets to sneak in invisibly with her cap of invisibility.

"Stop complaining. You were the one who suggest it," Annabeth said, standing next to me invisibly.

"Yeah, but wouldn't Polyphemus find it odd that your voice is female instead of male?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it," Annabeth responded.

I swear she used the same tone I used when I tried to reassure her about my plan of how to enter the Underworld last year.

At least my thermos is strapped _securely_ to my belt and Riptide was in my pocket in case something goes wrong.

The sun was going down.

No sooner was I done complaining for now, the Cyclops roared, "Oy! Goaties! Sheepies!"

The flock dutifully began trudging back up the slopes toward the cave.

"This is it!" Annabeth whispered. "I'll be close by. Don't worry."

My sheep taxi started plodding up the hill. After a hundred yards, my hands and feet started to hurt from holding on. I gripped the sheep's wool more tightly and the animal made a grumbling sound. I didn't blame it. I wouldn't want anybody rock climbing in my hair either. But if I didn't hold on, I was sure I'd fall off righter there in front of the monster.

"Hasenpfeffer!" the Cyclops said, patting on sheep in front of me. "Einstein! Widget—eh there, Widget!'

Polyphemus patted my sheep and nearly knocked me to the ground.

"Putting on some extra mutton there?" Polyphemus then laughed and swatted the sheep's rear end, propelling us forward. "Go on, fatty! Soon Polyphemus will eat you for breakfast!"

And just like that, I was in the cave.

I could see the last of the sheep coming inside. If Annabeth didn't pull off her distraction soon…

The Cyclops was about to roll the stone back into place, when from somewhere outside Annabeth shouted, "Hello, ugly!"

Polyphemus stiffened. "Who said that?"

"Nobody!" Annabeth yelled.

That got exactly the reaction we'd been hoping for. The monster's face turned red with rage.

"Nobody!" Polyphemus yelled back. "I remember you!"

"You're too stupid to remember anybody," Annabeth taunted. "Much less Nobody."

I hope to the gods she was already moving when she said that, because Polyphemus bellowed furiously, grabbed the nearest boulder (Which happened to be his front door) and threw it toward the sound of Annabeth's voice. I heard the rock smash into a thousand fragments.

For a terrible moment, there was silence. Then Annabeth shouted. "You haven't learn to throw any better, either!"

Polyphemus howled. "Come here! Let me kill you, Nobody!"

"You can't kill Nobody, you stupid oaf," she taunted. "Come and find me."

Polyphemus barreled down the hill toward her voice. Thank gods Polyphemus was dumb enough to not notice the difference in voices.

I just hoped Annabeth could stay alive and keep distracting him long enough for me to find Grover and Clarisse.

I dropped off my ride, patted Widget on the head, and apologized. I searched the main room, but there was no sign of Grover or Clarisse. I pushed through the crowd of sheep and goats toward the back of the cave.

Even though I'd dreamed about this place, I had a hard time finding my way through the maze. I ran down corridors littered with bones, past rooms full of sheepskin rugs and life-size cement sheep that I recognized as the work of Medusa. Something tells me Medusa might happy to send cemented Sheep to Polyphemus.

There were collections of sheep T-shirts, large tubs of lanolin cream, and wooly coats, socks, and hats with ram's horns. Finally, I found the spinning room, where Grover was huddled in the corner trying to cut Clarisse's bonds with a pair of safety scissors.

"It's not good," Clarisse said. "This rope is like iron!"

"Just a few more minutes!"

"Grover," she cried, exasperated. "You've been working at it for hours!"

"Maybe I can help," I responded.

Grover and Clarisse nearly jumped and turned to see it was me.

 _"Percy?"_ Clarisse said. "You're supposed to be blown up!"

"Nope, but I almost became a kindergartener class' pet guinea pig," I responded, "Now hold still while I—"

"Perrrrrcy!" Grover bleated and tackled me with a goat-hug. "You heard me! You came!"

"Yeah, buddy," I said. "Of course I came."

"Where's Annabeth?"

"Outside," I said. But there's no time to talk. Clarisse, hold still."

I uncapped Riptide and sliced off her ropes. She stood stiffly, rubbing her wrist. She glared at me for a moment, then looked at the ground and mumbled, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I said. "Now, was anyone else on your lifeboat?"

Clarisse looked surprised. "No. Just me. Everybody else aboard the _Birmingham_ … well, I didn't even know you guys made it out."

I looked down, trying not to believe that my last hope of seeing Tyson alive had just been crushed. "Okay. Come on, then. We have to help—"

An explosion echoed through the cave, followed by a scream that told me we might be too late. It was Annabeth crying out in fear.


	15. Polyphemus is Defeated Again

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **Polyphemus is Defeated Again**

"I got Nobody!" Polyphemus gloated.

We crept to the cave entrance and saw the Cyclops, grinning wickedly, holding up empty air. The monster shook his fist and Annabeth's baseball cap fluttered to the ground. There was Annabeth, hanging upside down by her legs.

"Hah!" the Cyclops said. "Nasty invisible girl! Already got feisty one for wife. Means you gotta be grilled with mango chutney!"

Annabeth struggled, but she looked dazed. She had a nasty cut on her forehead. Her eyes were glassy.

I turned to Clarisse and Grover. As much as I wanted to save Annabeth, I knew I didn't stand a chance against Polyphemus alone. Not in here at least. Clarisse had armed herself with a ram's-horn spear from the Cyclops' cave. Grover had found a sheep's thigh bone, which he didn't look too happy about, but he was gripping it like a club, ready to attack. They were ready to fight, but I wanted to make sure they were ready for this battle.

"Listen guys, if we stand a chance against Polyphemus, save Annabeth, and get the Fleece off the island, we need to work together," I responded.

"For once I agree with you Prissy," Clarisse agreed.

I blinked. I thought it would take more of a fight to get Clarisse to agree. Then again, it shouldn't be surprising since Clarisse did technically try to fight Polyphemus alone.

"Let's get this over with," Grover said in agreement.

"All right," I said, "Attack plan Macedonia."

They nodded. We'd all taken the same training courses at Camp Half-Blood. They know what I was talking about. They would sneak around either side and attack the Cyclops from the flaks while I held his attention in the front. This way either just me die or we all die. Either way, I was grateful for the help.

I locked my thermos under my arm pit of the arm holding riptide and shouted, "Hey, Ugly!"

The giant whirled around me. " _Another_ one? Who are you?"

"Put my friends down. _I'm_ the one who insulted you."

" _You_ are Nobody?"

"That's right, you smelly bucket of nose drool!" I responded with an insult. "I'm Nobody and I'm proud of it! Now, put her down and get over here. I want to stab your eye out again."

"RAAAR!" he bellowed.

The good news: he dropped Annabeth. The bad news he dropped her headfirst onto the rocks. Some more good news: I anticipated it and focus my power into the Thermos to summon a jet of water while at the same time stretching my hand out and focus on condensing it into a hand to catch Annabeth and laying her down on the ground—which worked.

Polyphemus—who was about to charge at me when I used my powers stared at me like I just gave him a surprise he didn't expected. "You—"

"What? Didn't think that Nobody was a son of Poseidon like you?" I asked.

Polyphemus roared in a combination of frustration and outrage. I doubt he didn't put it together that Odysseus couldn't be a son of Poseidon. It didn't matter now because the giant Cyclops came at me.

"For Pan!" Grover rushed in from the right. He threw his sheep bone, which bounced harmlessly off the monster's forehead. Clarisse ran in from the left and set her spear against the ground just in time for the Cyclops to step on it. He wailed in pain, and Clarisse dove out of the way to avoid getting trampled. But the Cyclops just plucked out the shaft like a large splinter and kept advancing on me.

I moved in with Riptide.

The monster made a grab for me. I rolled aside and went for the eye—Polyphemus' weakness. But Polyphemus moved in so quick I had to out maneuver his hands and ended up stabbing him in the thigh.

"Get Annabeth!" I yelled at Grover.

He rushed over, grabbed her invisibility cap, and picked her up while Clarisse and I tried to keep Polyphemus distracted.

Clarisse and I kept charging at Polyphemus, either trying to get to his eye or keeping his attention away from Grover and Annabeth. Polyphemus pounded the ground, stomped at us, grabbed at us, but we were too quick. As soon as Clarisse made an attack, I followed by stabbing the monster in the toe or the ankle or the hand.

But we couldn't keep this up forever. Eventually we would tire or the monster would get a lucky shot. I would only take one hit to hit us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Grover carrying Annabeth across the rope bridge. It wouldn't have been my first choice, given the man-eating sheep on the other side, but at the moment that looked better than _this_ side of the chasm, and it gave me an idea.

"Fall back!" I told Clarisse.

She rolled away as the Cyclops' fist smashed the olive tree beside her.

We ran for the bridge, Polyphemus right behind us. He was cut up and hobbling from so many wounds, but all we'd done was slow him down and make him mad.

"Grind you into sheep chow!" He promised. "A thousand curses on Nobody!"

"Faster!" I told Clarisse.

We tore down the hill. The bridge was our only chance. Grover just made it to the other side and was setting Annabeth down. We had to make it across, too, before the giant caught us.

"Grover!" I yelled. "Get Annabeth's knife!"

His eyes widened when he saw the Cyclops behind us, but he nodded like he understood. As Clarisse and I scrambled across the bridge, Grover began sawing at the ropes.

The first strand went _snap_!

Polyphemus bounded after us, making the bridge way wildly.

The ropes were now half cut. Clarisse and I dove for solid ground, landing beside Grover. I made a wild slash with my sword and cut the remaining ropes.

The bridge fell away into the chasm, and the Cyclops howled wiith delight because he was standing right next to us.

"Failed!" he yelled gleefully. "Nobody failed."

"Actually, Nobody succeed!" I responded.

I aimed my thermos in the ground and summoned a jet water that fired me into the air. I took out Riptide and prepared to strike the eye.

Polyphemus raised his hand and my sword went through his hand.

"Fail!" Polyphemus said before he opened his mouth to attack.

Just then a rock the size of a basketball sailed into the air into Polyphemus' throat with accuracy that would make Apollo's kids proud. The Cyclops choked, trying to swallow the unexpected pill, but I didn't give him a chance. I took out Riptide from his hand and climbed onto his face and stabbed him in the same place Odysseus struck him before, and Polyphemus was no longer a threat.

I landed on the ground after Polyphemus turned into dust. But my surprise was who threw the rock.

I turned to the direction I thought the rock came and saw halfway down the path to the beach, standing completely unharmed in the midst of a flock of killer sheep, was an old friend.

"You did it brother!" Tyson cheered.

…

Tyson gave us the short version: Rainbow the hippocampus—who'd apparently been following us ever since the Long Island South, waiting for Tyson to play with him—had found Tyson sinking beneath the wreckage of the CSS _Birmingham_ and pulled him to safety. He and Tyson had been searching the Sea of Monsters ever since, trying to find us, until Tyson caught the scent of sheep and found this island.

I wanted to hug the big oaf, except he was standing in the middle of killer sheep. They seemed to not bother him—probably because they think he was Polyphemus, which I decided to use to our advantage.

"Tyson, thank gods you're here! Get that Golden Fleece over there!" I yelled pointing at the Fleece at the tree.

"Oh. Pretty. I'll get it!" Tyson agreed.

Grover and I examined Annabeth's condition, and too be honest, it could have been worse if I haven't saved her from falling head first. However, the cut on her head was still pretty nasty.

I took out my backpack and found bottle of nectar I packed in it back in the hideout. I poor some just enough of it on the cut, causing it to heal.

Annabeth's eyelids fluttered open. She saw Grover and said weakly. "You're not… married?"

Grover grinned. "No. My friends talked me out of it."

"What about Polyphemus?" Annabeth asked.

"Back in Tartarus," I responded, "With a little unexpected help from Tyson."

"Tyson?" Annabeth asked.

"I got the fleece!" Tyson yelled holding up the Golden Fleece lumbering toward us with a flock of man-eating sheep.

"Stop Tyson!" I responded. "Don't bring the sheep here! They're friendly to Cyclops not demigods! Just throw the Fleece!"

Tyson seemed confuse at first, but nodded and threw the fleece.

The gold ram skin sailed through the air like a glittering shag Frisbee. I caught it with a grunt. It was heavier than I expected—sixty or seventy pounds of precious gold wool.

I gave it to Annabeth. "Wear this incase there's more injuries."

Annabeth didn't argue and wrapped it around her.

At the same time, Tyson was starting to have trouble with the sheep. "Down!" he told them as they climbed him, looking for food. A few were sniffing in our direction. "No, sheepies. This way! Come here!"

They heeded him, but it was obvious they were hungry, and they were starting to realize Tyson have any treats for them. They wouldn't hold out forever with so much fresh meat nearby.

Only problem was that our ship was long way, and the closest way was across the chasm, and we'd just destroyed the only bridge. The only other possibility was through the sheep.

Then I had an idea and turned to Grover. "Hey Grover, you think you can put some nature magic on some of the sheep here?"

Grover looked at me like I gone crazy. "Are you nuts?"

"Just one of them, so it can lead the rest out of here," I responded.

With much argument, Grover agreed and did some of his nature magic on the biggest sheep.

At first it sheep seemed confused, but then it started herding off who knows where. The other sheep seemed interested and followed it.

"We got to get to the ship," Grover said, "The spell won't last long."

No one argued against him.


	16. Goodbye Queen Anne's Revenge

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **Goodbye Queen Anne's Revenge**

We reached the Queen Anne's revenge as fast as we could.

"How did you find Blackbeard's ship?" Clarisse demanded.

"Circe's Island," I replied, "We accidentally freed him from his imprisonment as a guinea pig, and well—we better avoid the island."

I got the ship moving in no time and we were off.

We already decided it was best to take the clashing rocks. We weren't about to fight Charybdis and Scylla _again_.

Avoiding the Sirens was actually easier the first time since everyone decided to wear wax ear plugs. We also steered clear of Hephaestus' forge and Circe's island.

That night I manage to have a Kronos free dream, which I had found creepy. I would think Kronos would try to pull me in to joining him at this point.

The next day we arrived at Clashing Rocks.

…

"So, how do we pass this?" I asked.

"Jason had to throw in a bird and if it went through, he knew it was safe," Annabeth replied.

"One problem," Clarisse said, "We don't have a bird."

The clashing rocks in front of us was—well—smashing into each other. There was hardly any moment to pass through.

"Why don't we just rush it," Clarisse suggested.

Annabeth and I looked at her like she was crazy.

"Unless you have a better idea—" Clarisse said.

"Fine! Percy wait on my mark and then get the ship to move at top speed," Annabeth said.

I nodded and will the ship to hold steady.

The rocks spread apart creating an opening.

"Now!" Annabeth responded.

I willed the ship to move at top speed through the rocks but even at top speed the rocks were starting to clash.

We were almost halfway through when the rock started grinding against the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ and before we got out the rocks smashed on our rudder, rendering our ship useless.

"Great! Good idea Clarisse!" Annabeth said.

"Uh guys," I said.

"At least I thought of something," Clarisse said.

"We're stuck here," Grover groaned.

"It's worse than that," I responded.

"What do you mean?" Annabeth asked.

"The hull took a lot of damage from the attack," I explained. "From both sides. If we don't do something right now, the ship will start sinking with us on it."

"Great," Grover groaned

"How much time until the ship start sinking?" Annabeth asked.

The _Queen Anne's Revenge_ started groaning as the stern started sinking.

"Not long," I responded.

"Rainbow!" Tyson yelled.

I look at my starboard side and saw Rainbow along with four other Hippocampi—however Rainbow was the only one wearing a saddle. They were neighing, wanting us to jump overboard and climb on them.

"They want us to get on them," I responded.

"Then we better do it," Annabeth said.

The ship groaned indating that it was still sinking. The Queen Anne' Revenge been such helpful it didn't seem right to let it sit in the water.

"Go ahead guys," I said, "I'll be right behind you."

"What are you doing Percy?" Annabeth asked.

"I'm just going to make sure this ship gets a proper ending," I responded.

Annabeth stared at me and nodded. The Hippocampi were big enough where Clarisse Annabeth Grover and Tyson could just climb on their back from the side of the sh

It didn't take me long to find what I need to start a fire. I took out some matches I got at the hideout and lit a piece of wood with a cloth at the end and lit it on fire.

"Queen Anne's revenge, it been grate steering you. Now rest in peace," I said as I threw the flame on a piece a pile of wood I gathered.

The fire lit up and as soon as it was big enough I jumped over board.

After I hit the water, safe of course, the only unoccupied Hippocampus left swam up and helped me on its back.

When we came to the surface I found my friends watching the _Queen Anne's Revenge_ burn.

"So that's what you were up too?" Annabeth asked.

I nodded. "It didn't seem right to let it just rot at the bottom of the ocean."

Everyone nodded as the ship burned down.

"Come on," I said, "We better get back inland."


	17. We Get a Surprise in Miami Beach

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **We Get a Surprise in Miami Beach**

We finally could see the mainland after what seemed forever. The sun was setting behind a city skyline. I could see a beachside highway lined with palm trees, storefronts glowing with red and blue neon, a harbor filled with sailboats and cruise ships.

"I think we're in Miami," Annabeth said.

When she said that the Hippocampi slowed down before started whinnying and swimming in circles.

"What's going on?" Clarisse asked.

"The water is too polluted," I replied. "The won't take us farther than this cause of it. We'll have to swim to shore on our own."

None of us was very psyched about that, but we thanked Rainbow and his friends for the ride. Tyson cried a little. He unfastened the makeshift saddle pack he'd made, which contained his tool kit and a couple of other things he'd salvage from the _Birmingham_ wreck. He hugged Rainbow around the neck, and gave him a soggy mango he'd picked up on the island, and said good-bye.

Once the hippocampi's white manes disappeared into the sea we swam to shore. The waves pushed us forward, and in no time we were back in the mortal world. We wandered along the cruise line docks, pushing through crowds of people arriving for vacations. Porters bustled around with carts of luggage. Taxi drivers yelled at each other in Spanish and tried to cut in line for customers. If anybody noticed us—five kids dripping wet and looking like they'd just had a fight with a monster—they didn't let on.

Now that we were back among mortals, Tyson's single eye had blurred from the Mist. Grover had put on his cap and sneakers. Even the Fleece had transformed from a sheepskin to a red-and-gold high school letter jacket with a large glittery Omega on the pocket.

Annabeth ran to the nearest newspaper box and checked the date on the _Miami Herald_. She cursed. "June Eighteenth! We been away from camp ten days!"

"That's impossible!" Clarisse said.

But I knew it wasn't. Time traveled differently in monstrous places.

"Thalia's tree must be almost dead," Grover wailed. "We have to get the Fleece back _tonight_."

Clarisse slumped down on the pavement. "How are we supposed to do that?" Her voice trembled. "We're hundreds of miles away. No money. No ride. This is just like the Oracle said. It's _your_ fault, Jackson! If you hadn't interfered—"

"Percy's fault?!" Annabeth exploded. "Clarisse, how can you say that? You are the biggest—"

"Stop it!" I said.

Clarisse put her head in her hands. Annabeth stomped her foot in frustration.

I thought about what I'd overheard in the boiler room of the CSS _Birmingham_ —Ares yelling at Clarisse, warning her that she'd better not failed. Ares couldn't care less about the camp, or the fact that this was Clarisse was given it, but if Clarisse made him look bad…

"Clarisse," I said, "what did the Oracle tell you exactly?"

She looked up. I thought she was going to tell me off, but instead she took a deep breath and recited her prophecy:

 _"You shall sail the iron ship with warriors of bone,  
You shall find what you seek and make it your own,  
But despair for your life entombed within stone,  
And fail without friends, to fly home alone."_

"Ouch," Grover mumbled.

"No," I said. "No… wait a minute. I got it."

I dug into my backpack searched in it for money but with no lick.

"Does anybody have any cash?"

Annabeth and Grover shook their heads morosely. Clarisse pulled a wet Confederate dollar from her pocket and sighed.

"Cash?" Tyson asked hesitantly. "Like… green paper mommy transfer from that debit card to pay for my clothes?"

I looked at him. "Yeah!"

Tyson rummaged in his saddle pack and pulled out the Zipoc bag full of cash that Hermes had included in our supplies.

"Tyson!" I said. "How did you—"

"Found it floating in the sea," Tyson replied.

He handed me the cash. Fives and tens, at least three hundred dollars.

I ran to the curb and grabbed a taxi that was just letting out a family of cruise passengers. "Clarisse," I yelled. "Come on. You're going to the airport. Annabeth, give her the Fleece."

I'm not sure which of them looked more stunned as I took the Fleece letter jacket from Annabeth, tucked the cash into its pocket, and put it in Clarisse's arms.

Clarisse said, "You'd let me—"

"It's your quest," I said. "We only have enough for one flight. I can't travel by plane without Zeus' permission. That's what the prophecy meant: you'd fail without friends, meaning you'd need our help, but you'd have to fly home alone. You have to get the Fleece back safely."

I could see her mind working—suspicious at first, wondering what trick I was playing, then finally decided I meant what I said.

She jumped in the cab. "You can count on me. I won't fail."

"Not failing would be good."

The cab peeled out in a cloud of exhaust. The Fleece was on its way.

"Percy, are you sure about this?" Annabeth asked. "You're betting everything on Clarisse."

"It's her fate," I responded. "Come on, let's find another way home."

That's when I turned and found a sword pointed at my throat.

"Hey, Percy," said Luke. "Welcome back to the States."

His bear-man thugs appeared on either side of us. One grabbed Annabeth and Grover by their T-shirt collars. The other tried to grab Tyson, but Tyson knocked him into a pile of luggage and roared at Luke.

"Percy," Luke said calmly, "tell your giant to back down or I'll have Oreius bash your friends' heads together."

Oreius grinned and raised Annabeth and Grover off the ground, kicking and screaming.

"What do you want, Luke?" I asked.

He smiled, the scar rippling on the side of his face.

He gestured toward the end of the dock, and I noticed what should've been obvious. The biggest boat in port was the _Princess Andromeda_.

"Why, Percy," Luke said, "I want to extend my hospitality, of course."

…

The bear twins herded us aboard the _Princess Andromeda_. They threw us down at the aft deck in front of a swimming pool with sparkling fountains that sprayed into the air. A dozen of Luke's assorted goons—snake people, Laistrygonians, demigods in battle armor—had gathered to watch us get some "hospitality."

"And so, the Fleece," Luke mused. "Where is it?"

He looked us over, prodding my shirt with the tip of his sword, poking Grover's jeans.

"Hey!" Grover yelled. "That's real goat fur under there!"

"Sorry, old friend," Luke smiled. "Just give me the Fleece and I'll leave you to return to your, ah, little nature quest."

"Blaa-ha-ha!" Grover protested. "Some old friend!"

"Maybe you didn't hear me." Luke's voice was dangerously calm. "Where—is—the—Fleece?"

"Not here," I said.

"What—that's im—" Luke's eyes narrowed as his face reddened as a horrible possibility occurred to him. "Clarisse?"

I nodded.

"You trusted… you gave…"

I didn't dare to answer, but apparently I didn't need to.

"Argius!"

The bear giant flinched. "Y-yes?"

"Get below and prepare my steed. Bring it to the deck. I need to fly to the Miami Airport, fast!"

"But, boss—"

"Do it!" Luke screamed. "Or I'll feed you to the Drakon!"

The bear-man gulped and lumbered down the stairs. Luke paced in front of the swimming pool, cursing in Ancient Greek, gripping his sword so tight his knuckles turned white.

The rest of Luke's crew looked uneasy. Maybe they'd never seen their boss so unhinged before.

I started thinking… if I could use Luke's anger, get him to talk so everybody could hear how crazy his plans were…

I looked at the swimming pool, at the fountains spraying a mist into the air, making a rainbow in the sunset. And suddenly I had an idea.

"So this was a trap then!" I said. "You wanted us to bring you the Fleece and save you the trouble of getting it."

Luke scowled. "Of course! And you've messed everything up!"

"Traitor!" I dug my last drachma out of my pocket and threw it at Luke. As I expected, he dodge it easily. The coin sailed into the spray of rainbow colored water.

I prayed in silence with all my heart: _O goddess, accept my offering._

"You tricked all of us!" I yelled at Luke. "Even DIONYSUS at CAMP HALF-BLOOD!"

Behind Luke, the fountain began to shimmer, but I needed everyone's attention on me, so I uncapped Riptide.

Luke just sneered. "This is no time for heroics Percy. Drop your puny little sword, or I'll have to kill you sooner rather than later."

"Who poisoned Thalia's tree, Luke?"

"I did, of course," he snarled. "I already told you that. I used elder python venom, straight from the depths of Tartarus."

"Chiron had nothing to do with it?"

"Ha! You know he would never do that. The old fool wouldn't have the guts."

"You call it guts? Betraying your friends? Endangering the whole camp?"

Luke raised his sword. "You don't understand the half of it. I was going to let you take the Fleece… once I was done with it."

That made me hesitate. Why would he let me take the Fleece? He might be lying, or he truly didn't want to kill Thalia. Either way, I couldn't afford to lose his attention.

"You were going to heal Kronos," I said.

"Yes! The Fleece's magic would've sped his mending process by tenfold. But you haven't stopped us, Percy. You've only slowed us down a little."

"And so you poisoned the tree, you betrayed Thalia, you set us up—all to help Kronos destroy the gods."

Luke gritted his teeth. "You know that! Why do you keep asking me?"

"Because I want everybody in the audience to hear you."

" _What_ audience?"

Then his eyes narrowed. He looked behind him and his goons did the same. They gasped and stumbled back.

Above the pool, shimmering in the rainbow mist was an Iris-message of Dionysus, Tantalus, and the whole camp in the dining pavilion. They sat in stunned silence, watching us.

"Well," said Dionysus said dryly, "some unplanned dinner entertainment."

"Mr. D, you heard him," I said. "You all heard Luke. The poisoning of the tree wasn't Chiron's fault."

Mr. D sighed. "I suppose not."

"The Iris message could be a trick," Tantalus suggested, but his attention was mostly on his cheeseburger, which he was trying to corner with both hands.

"I fear not," Mr. D said, looking with distaste at Tantalus. "It appears I shall have to reinstate Chiron as activities director. I suppose I do miss the old horse pinochle games."

Tantalus grabbed the cheeseburger. It didn't bolt away from him. He lifted it from the plate and stared at it in amazement, as if it were the largest diamond in the world.

"I got it!" he cackled.

"We are no longer in need of your services, Tantalus," Mr. D announced.

Tantalus looked stunned. "What? But—"

"You may returned to the Underworld. You are dismissed."

"No! But—N00000000000!"

As he dissolved into mist, his fingers clutched at the cheeseburger, trying to bring it to his mouth. But it was too late. He disappeared and the cheeseburger fell back onto its plate. The campers exploded into cheering.

"By the way," I shouted over the cheering, "Clarisse has the Fleece and Polyphemus is back in Tartarus!"

I didn't know if they heard me but it didn't matter. Luke bellowed with rage. He slashed his sword through the fountain and the Iris-message dissolved. Either way, the main purpose of the message of proving Chiron's innocence was done. Now it was up to Clarisse to bring the Fleece to camp.

Luke turned and gave me a murderous look.

"Kronos was right, Percy. You're an unreliable weapon. I had hopes it didn't come to this, but you need to be replaced.

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I didn't have time to think about it. One of his men blew a brass whistle, and the deck doors flew open. A dozen more warriors poured out, making a circle around us, the brass tips of their spears bristling.

Luke gave me a sympathetic smile. "You'll never leave this boat alive."


	18. The Invasion of the Party Ponies

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **The Invasion of the Party Ponies**

"One on one," I challenge Luke. "What are you afraid of?"

Luke curled his lips. The soldiers who were about to kill us hesitated, waiting for his order.

Before he could say anything, Agrius, the bear-man, burst onto the deck leading a pure black Pegasus with wings like a raven. The Pegasus bucked and whinnied. I could understand his thoughts. He was calling Agrius and Luke some names so bad Chiron would've washed his muzzle out with saddle soap.

"Sir!" Agrius called, dodging a pegasus hoof. "Your steed is ready!"

Luke kept his eyes on me.

"You can't bait me into a fight, Percy," Luke said.

"What's wrong Luke? Scared your warriors will see you get whipped?" I asked.

Luke glanced at his men and he saw I'd trapped him. If he backed down now, he would look weak. If he fought me, he'd lose valuable time chasing after Clarisse. For my part the best I could hope for was to distract him, so Annabeth could come up with an escape plan.

I knew how good Luke was at sword fighting, I trained with him after all, but I also have one advantage on my side—my thermos, and a pool of water.

"I'll kill you quickly," he decided, and raised his weapon. Backbitter was a foot longer than Riptide. Its blade glinted with an evil gray-and-gold light where the human steel had been melded with celestial bronze. I could almost feel the blade fighting against itself, like two opposing magnets bound together. I didn't now how the blade had been made, but I sense a tragedy. Someone had died in the process. Luke whistled to one of his men, who threw him a round leather-and-bronze shield.

He grinned at me wickedly.

"Luke," Annabeth said, "at least give him a shield."

"Sorry, Annabeth," he said. "You bring your own equipment to this party."

"Fine by me," I said as I took out my thermos.

"Oh please, Percy. There isn't a move you can do that I don't know," Luke said as he lunged at me to kill me at the first dry.

I summoned a jet of water from my thermos forcing Luke to move to the side giving me time to dodge and strike at Luke's sword arm.

Luke blocked it with his shield and came at me again with a swipe to my head. I parried, returned with a thrust. He side stepped and lunged at me again. I jumped backwards into the swimming pool. Only this time I stayed down.

Luke stand at the edge, waiting for me to jump out. However I had another plans. I capped my thermos and raised my hand and focus. I didn't need to look to know a guiser of water and condensed it into a hand. I guess Luke didn't expect it because it grabbed him and when I yanked my hand back it pulled him into the water.

Before he had a chance to respond. I swiftly swam up out pushed myself into onto the deck.

Luke swam up shortly after and gave me a shock look. "what—how?"

"A new trick I learned at the Island of the Sirens," I responded as I point Riptide at him, "Now surrender before I show you what else I learned what I can do!"

It was mostly a lie, but I didn't want Luke to know that.

"Oreius, kill them!" Luke ordered, "Eat your dinner!"

My eyes widened. I forgot that one of the bear-giants had Annabeth and Grover.

"He-he! He-he!" the bear-man lifted my friends and bared his teeth. That's when all Hades broke loose.

 _Whish!_

A red feather arrow sprouted from Oreius' mouth. With a surprised look on his hairy face, he crumpled to the deck.

"Brother!" Agrius wailed. He let the pegasus' reins go slack just long enough black steed to kick him in the head and fly away free over Miami Bay.

For a split second, Luke's guards were too stunned to do anything except watch the bear twins' bodies dissolved into smoke.

Then there was a wild chorus of war cries and hooves thundering against metal. A dozen centaurs charged out of the main stairwell.

"Ponies!" Tyson cried with delight.

Despite meeting Chiron's relatives during the Centaur Prom, I still have a hard time processing them when they _barge_ into a place. See, just as each horse is different, each centaur is different. Each one had a different type of horse back. But the centaurs Chiron normally _associated_ too are not the dangerous creatures of the Greek stories. These were the types you normally find in parties or sporting events disguise as mortals by the Mist causing what they referred to as friendly riots that goes wrong. They even call themselves the Party Ponies.

Despite all that these guys were armed for a strange combination of party and battle. Some were armed with bows, some with baseball bats, and some with paintball guns. One had his face painted like a Comanche warrior and was waving a large orange Styrofoam hand making a big Number 1. Another was bared chested and painted entirely green. A third had googly-eye glasses with the eyeballs caps with soda-can-and-straw attachment on either side.

They exploded onto the deck with Chiron leading with such ferocity and color that for a moment even Luke—who had started climbing out of the pool—was so stunned that he didn't have time to block a custom-made arrow with a leather boxing glove on the end. It smacked Luke in the face.

His warriors scattered.

"Come get some!" yelled one of the Party Ponies.

They let loose their paintball guns. A wave of blue and yellow exploded against Luke's warriors, blinding them and splattering them from head to toe. They tried to run, only to slip and fall.

Chiron galloped toward Annabeth and Grover, neatly plucked them off the deck and deposited them on his back.

A palomino centaur hoisted me onto his back.

Luke was crawling out of the pool.

"Attack, you fools!" he ordered his troops. Somewhere down below deck, a large alarm bell thrummed.

I knew any second we would be swamped by Luke's reinforcements. Already, his warriors were getting over their surprise, coming at the centaurs with swords and spears drawn.

Tyson slapped half a dozen of them aside, knocking them over the guardrail into Miami Bay. But more warriors were coming up the stairs.

"Withdraw, brethren!" Chiron said.

"You won't get away with this, horse man!" Luke shouted. He raised his sword, but got smacked in the face with another boxing glove arrow, and crashed back into the pool.

"Dude," the palomino centaur said, "Get your big friend!"

"Tyson!" I yelled. "Come on!"

Tyson dropped the two warriors he was about to tie into a knot and jogged after us. He jumped onto the centaur's back.

"Dude!" the centaur groaned, almost buckling under Tyson's weight. "Do the words 'low-carb diet' mean anything to you?"

Luke's warriors were organizing themselves into a phalanx. But by the time they were ready to advance, the centaurs had galloped to the edge of the deck ad fearlessly jumped the guardrail, as if it were a steeplechase and not ten stories above the ground. We plummeted toward the docks, and the centaurs hit the asphalt with hardly a jolt and galloped off, whooping and yelling taunts at the _Princess Andromeda_ as we raced into the streets of downtown Miami.

…

It's a good thing the Mist covers up the mystical to most Mortals, because a herd of centaurs passing through a city at impossible speed would probably freak them out.

Streets and buildings began to blur as the centaurs picked up speed. If felt as if space were compacting—as if each centaur step took us miles and miles. In no time, we'd left the city behind. We raced through marshy fields of high grass and ponds and stunted trees.

Finally, we found ourselves in a trailer park at the edge of a lake. The trailers were all horse trailers, tricked out with televisions and mini refrigerators and mosquito netting. We were in a centaur camp.

"Dude!" said a party pony as he unloaded his gear. "Did you see that bear guy? He was all like: 'Whoa, I have an arrow in my mouth!"

The centaur with the googly-eye glasses laughed. "That was awesome! Head slam!"

The two centaurs charged at each other full-force and knocked heads, then went staggering off in different directions with crazy grins on their faces.

Chiron sighed. He set Annabeth and Grover down on the picnic blanket next to me—where the centaur carrying Tyson and me dropped us off before Tyson was invited to play with them. "I really wish my cousins wouldn't slam their heads together. They don't have the brain cells to spare."

"Chiron," I said, still stunned by the fact he was here. "You saved us."

He gave me a dry smile. "Well now, I couldn't very well let you die, especially since you cleared my name."

"But how did you know where we were?" Annabeth asked.

"Advanced planning, my dear. I figured you would wash up near Miami if you made it out of the Sea of Monsters alive. Almost everything strange washes up near Miami."

"Gee, thanks," Grover mumbled.

"No, no," Chiron said. "I didn't mean… Oh, never mind. I _am_ glad to see you, my young satyr. The point is, I was able to eavesdrop on Percy's Iris-message and trace the signal. Iris and I have been friends for centuries. I asked her to alert me to any important communications I this area. It then took no effort to convince my cousins to ride to your aid. Centaurs can travel quite fast when we wish to. Distance for us is not the same as distance for humans."

I looked over at the campfire, where three party ponies were teaching Tyson to operate a paintball gun. I hope they knew what they were getting into.

"So what now?" I asked Chiron. "We just let Luke sail away? He's got the Titan Lord aboard that ship. Or parts of him, anyway."

"I'm afraid, Percy, that today has been something of a draw. We didn't have the strength of numbers to take that ship. Luke was not organized enough to pursue us. Nobody won."

"But we got the Fleece!" Annabeth said. "Clarisse is on her way back to camp with it right now."

Chiron nodded, though he still looked uneasy. "I heard that part as well. You are all true heroes—including Clarisse. And as soon as you're rest up, we will return to Camp Half-Blood."

That seem to put my mind into ease, but I still couldn't help but what Luke meant bac there: _I was going to let you take the Fleece… once I was done with it_.

At first I thought it might be a lie that it was only for Kronos, but I remembered what Hal said about Thalia's destiny, how she would stand tall but asleep before transforming again.

Over by the campfire, Tyson let loose with his paintball gun. A projectile splattered against one of the centaurs, hurling him backward into the lake. The centaur came up grinning, covered in swamp muck and blue paint, and gave Tyson two thumbs up.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "perhaps you and Grover would go supervise Tyson and my cousins before they, ah, teach each other too many bad habits?"

Annabeth met his eyes. Some kind of understanding passed between them.

"Sure, Chiron," Annabeth said. "Come on, goat boy."

"But I don't like paintball."

"Yes, you do." She hoisted Grover to his hooves and led him off toward the campfire.

Once they were out of hearing range Chiron said, "Percy, I had a talk with Annabeth on the way here. A talk about the prophecy."

Uh-oh, I thought.

"I only had Annabeth told me the basic idea of it, nothing more," I responded, "I know I wasn't supposed to know—not yet at least—but after our first encounter with Luke… I just had to know. I swear on the river of styx that I won't try to find out more until you feel I'm ready though."

The sky rumbled. Chiron at first seemed irritated, but considering that I wouldn't go off making oaths of the River of Styx unless what I was promising was serious.

"Very well, Percy. I'll hold you on your oath," Chiron said. "But don't take things too likely. Anything could happen in the next three years that can falter your decision of whether to save Olympus or not."

"Right," I responded.

"However—I think after today, you proven that your heart is in the right place," Chiron said. "You could have kept the Fleece to take to Thalia to save her yourself, and thus when Luke captured you he would have gotten the Fleece. But instead, you trusted Clarisse to finish the quest she was given."

"Chiron—can the Fleece reverse transformations that the Olympians did?" I asked.

Chiron was hesitant on that answer. I think he could tell I was asking about Thalia. "It's hard to tell. Even if it does, we don't know how the tree transformation could affect her age. She could come back at the age she would be technically or if she would be younger or older than she should be."

"Right," I responded.

"No matter if you're the child of prophecy, Percy, don't forget your roots," Chiron said, "Hal gave you his book for a reason. And it's up to you to decide what to do with that reason."

I nodded.

"Come on! I think it's time to go back to camp," Chiron said. "I need to talk to Mr. D about the fact that the Chariot races that were brought back in my absence."


	19. The Chariot Race Ends With a Bang

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **The Chariot Race Ends With a Bang**

We arrived in Long Island just after Clarisse, thanks to the centaurs' travel powers. I rode on Chiron's back, and along the way Chiron explained to me that even if the Fleece did had the power to bring Thalia back, it might not be immediate if the poison has progressed as far as we fear it has.

When we got to camp, the centaurs were anxious to meet Dionysus. They'd heard he threw some really wild parties, but they were disappointed. The wine god was in no mood to celebrate as the whole camp gathered at the top of Half-Blood Hill.

The camp had been through a hard two weeks. The arts and crafts cabin had burned to the ground from an attack by a _Draco Aionius_ which was a type of dragon that blows things up. The Big House's rooms were overflowing with wounded. The kids in the Apollo cabin, who were the best healers, had been working overtime performing first aid. Everybody looked weary and battered as we crowded around Thalia's tree.

The moment Clarisse draped the Golden Fleece over the lowest bough, the moonlight seemed to brighten turning from gray to liquid silver, as if Artemis herself was responding to the Fleece's return. A cool breeze rustled in the branches and rippled through the grass, all the way into the valley. Everything came into sharper focus—the glow of the fireflies down in the woods, the smell of the strawberry fields, the sound of the waves on the beach.

Gradually, the needles on the pine tree started turning from brown to green.

Everybody cheered. It was happening slowly, but there could be no doubt—the Fleece's magic was seeping into the tree, filling it with new power and expelling poison.

Only time would tell if Thalia would be brought back to us and see if it impacts the prophecy or not.

Chiron ordered a twenty-four/seven guard duty on the hilltop, at least until he could find an appropriate monster to protect the Fleece. He said he'd place an ad in _Olympus Weekly_ right away.

In the meantime, Clarisse was carried on her cabin mates' shoulders down to the amphitheater, where she was honored with a laurel wreath, burning her own shroud, and a lot of celebrating around the campfire.

Nobody gave Annabeth or me a second look as if we never left, which I don't mind. Not only because it means we won't be expelled, but because for once I didn't want the attention. For once I wanted to be a regular Camp Half-Blood Camper.

Later that night, as we were roasting s'mores ad listening to the Stoll brothers tell us a ghost a ghost story about an evil king who was eaten alive by demonic breakfast pastries, Clarisse shoved me from behind and whispered in my ear, "Just because you were cool one time, Jackson, don't think you're off the hook with Ares. I'm still waiting for the right opportunity to pulverize you."

I gave her grudgingly smile. "I wouldn't expect more from you, War girl!"

…

The next morning, after the party ponies headed back to Florida, Chiron made a surprise announcement: the chariot races would go ahead as scheduled. We'd all figured they were history now that Tantalus was gone, but completing them did feel the right thing to do, especially now that Chiron was back and the camp was safe.

The best part was Annabeth allowed Tyson to be our full time pit crew I the race, even add his own modifications to our chariot.

We spent the next two days training like crazy. The deal remained the same, if we win we split the prize between Poseidon and Athena Cabin.

The night before the race, I stayed late at the stables.

I was talking to our horses, giving them one final brushing, when somebody right behind me said, "Fine animals, horses. Wish I'd thought of them."

I turned to see Hermes in a postal carrier outfit leaning against the stable door with a mailbag slung over his sholder.

"Hermes?" I stammered.

"Hello, Percy," Hermes responded.

"Listen Hermes, about Luke—I wasn't able to tell him about _that_ dream," I responded, "I'm sorry. I tried to tell him, but he's—"

"Stubborn," Hermes admitted, "Luke may know it, but he's as stubborn as his mother was that day."

I looked down remembering the dream of what happened to Luke's mom.

In the distance, the conch horn sounded, signaling curfew.

"You should get to bed," Hermes said. "I've helped you get into quite enough trouble this summer already. I really only came to make this delivery from your father."

"Dad?" I asked.

Hermes took an electronic signature pad from his mailbag and handed it to me. "Sign there, please."

I picked up the stylus before realizing it was entwined with a pair of green snakes. Normally this would creep me out, but I tried to keep it to myself as I signed it.

 _Did you bring me a rat?_ George asked.

"No…" I said. "Uh, we didn't find any."

 _Other than a guinea pig_.

 _George!_ Martha chided. _Don't tease the boy_.

I handed the pad back to Hermes, and in exchange he handed me a sea blue envelope.

I could tell it was from my father. I could sense his power in cool blue paper, as if the envelope itself had folded out of an ocean wave.

"Good luck tomorrow," Hermes said. "Fine team of horses you have there, though you'll excuse me if I root for Hermes cabin."

"I would be surprise if you didn't," I responded.

 _And don't be too discourage when you read it, dear_ , Martha told me. _He_ does _have your interest at heart, just as he_ always _had._

"What do you mean?" I asked.

 _Don't mind her,_ George said. _And next time, remember, snakes work for tips._

"Enough, you two," Hermes said. "Goodbye, Percy. For now."

Small white wings sprouted from his pith helmet he was wearing, and he began to glow. I adverted my eyes before Hermes revealed his true divine form. In a brilliant white flash he was gone, and I was alone with horses.

I stared at the blue envelope in my hands. It was addressed in strong but elegant handwriting.

 ** _Percy Jackson  
c/o Camp Half-Blood  
Farm Road 3.141  
Long Island, New York 11954_**

An actual letter from my father. I didn't know why he send it. It could be a congratulations or a warning.

I opened the envelope and unfolded the paper.

Two simple words were printed in the middle of the page but it was affective:

 _Brace Yourself_

…

The next morning, everybody was buzzing about the chariot race, though they kept glancing nervously at the sky like they expected to see Stymphalian birds gathering. None did. It was a beautiful summer day with blue sky and plenty of sunshine. The camp had started to look the way it should look: the meadows were green and lush; the white columns gleamed I the Greek buildings; dryads played happily in the woods.

And I was miserable. Not because dad send me a letter with only two words but the possibilities of why. One question did come to my mind: _Did Kronos planned to use Thalia if she comes back_

I tried to keep my mind on the race as Annabeth and I drove onto the track. I couldn't help admiring the work Tyson had done to it. The chariot was reinforced with celestial bronze. The wheels were realigned with magical suspensions so we glided along with hardly a bump. The rigging for the horses was so perfectly balance that the team turned at the slightest tug of the reins.

Tyson had also made us two javelins, each with three buttons on the shaft. The first button primed the javelin to explode on impact, releasing razor sharp wire that would tangle ad shred the opponent's wheels. The second button produced a blunt (but still very painful) bronze spearhead designed to knock a driver out of his carriage. The third button brought up a grappling hook that could be used to lock onto an enemies chariot or push it away.

I find we were in pretty good shape for the race, but Tyson still warned me to be careful. The other chariot teams had plenty of tricks up their togas.

"Here," he said, just before the race began.

He handed me a wristwatch. There wasn't anything special about it—just a white-and-silver clock face, a black leather strap—but as soon as I saw it I realize that this is what I'd seen him tinkering on all summer.

I didn't usually like to wear watches, but I couldn't say no to Tyson.

"Thanks, bro." I put it o and found it was surprisingly light and comfortable. I could hardly tell I was wearing it.

"Didn't finish it in time for the trip," Tyson mumbled. "Sorry, sorry."

"Hey, man. No big deal."

"If you need protection in the race," he advised, "hit the button."

Normally I would question something like that, but considering this was Tyson's first project and he was taught by Beckendorf, I'm a bit curious. "Okay, I promise I'll use it if needed. And we'll win this race for you."

Tyson smiled and headed back to the stands. Just in time too. Chiron was now at the starting line, ready to blow the conch.

I climbed on board the chariot and got into position just as Chiron blew the starting signal.

The horses knew what to do. We shot down the track faster than before causing Annabeth and I to hold on for dear life. The wheels glided beautifully. We took the first turn a full chariot length ahead of Clarisse, who was busy trying to fight off a javelin attack from the Stoll brothers in the chariot.

"Incoming!" Annabeth yelled. She threw her first javelin in grappling hook mode, knocking away a lead-weighted net that would have entangled us both. Apollo's chariot had come up on our flank.

"Switch sides!" I responded.

Annabeth reluctantly nodded and took the reins. I took out my thermos and summoned a blast of water at the Apollo's driver—a first year—knocking him against his teammate and sending them both toppling out of their chariot in a backward somersault. The horses felt the reins go slack ad went crazy, riding straight for the crowd. Campers scrambled for cover as the horse leaped the corner of the bleachers and the golden chariot flipped over. The horses galloped back toward their stable, dragging the upside-down chariot behind them.

Apollo's chariot was down, but we now had Hephaestus coming up close behind while the Stoll Brothers and Clarisse not far behind.

We made the second turn without a problem and passed the starting line and thundered into our final lap.

The Hephaestus team was still gaining.

Beckendorf grinned as he pressed a button on his command console. Steel cables shot out of the front of his mechanical horses, wrapping around our back rail. Our chariot shuddered as Beckendorf winched system started working—pulling us backward while Beckendorf pulled himself forward.

Annabeth drew her knife. She hacked the cables but they were too thick.

"Can't cut them!" she yelled.

The Hephaestus chariot was now dangerously close, their horses about to trample underfoot.

"Switch with me!" I told Annabeth.

She nodded and took the reins. I uncapped riptide and cut through the cables like kite string. We lurched forward, but Beckendorf's driver just swung his chariot to our left and pulled up next to us. Beckendorf drew his sword. He slashed at Annabeth, and I parried the blade away.

We were coming up on the last turn. We'd never make it. I needed to disable the Hephaestus chariot and get it out of the way, but I had to protect Annabeth, too. Just because Beckendorf was a nice guy didn't mean he wouldn't send us both to the infirmary if we let our guard down.

We were neck and neck now, Clarisse coming up from behind, making up for lost time.

"See ya, Percy!" Beckendorf yelled. "Here's a little parting gift!"

He threw a leather pouch into our chariot. It stuck to the floor and began billowing green smoke.

"Greek fire!" Annabeth yelled.

I muttered some incoherent words in ancient Greek. I knew full well how powerful Greek fire was. We needed to get rid of it quickly, but I was too busy trying to parried Beckendorf's blade away.

Then I remembered the watch.

I managed to punch the stopwatch button. Instantly, the watch changed. It expanded, the metal rim spiraling outward like an old-fashioned camera shutter, a leather strap wrapping around my forearm until I was holding a round war shield four feet wide, the inside soft leather, the outside polished bronze engraved with designs I didn't have time to examine.

Tyson had come through. I raised the shield, and Beckendorf's sword clang against it. His blade shattered

"What?" he shouted. "How—"

He didn't have time to say more because I knocked him in the chest with my shield with my new shield and sent him flying out of his chariot, tumbling in the dirt.

At this point the Greek fire was shooting sparks. I shoved the tip of my sword under the leather pouch and flipped it up like a spatula. The Greek fire dislodged and flew into Hephaestus chariot at the driver's feet. He yelped.

I took out the final javelin and press the button that turned it into a grappling hook and used it to push the Hephaestus chariot away. In a split second the driver made the right choice: he dove out of the chariot, which careen away with the force of our javelin and exploded in green flames. The metal horses seemed to short-circuit. They turned and dragged the burning wreckage back toward Clarisse and the Stoll brothers, who had to swerve to avoid it.

Annabeth pulled the reins for the last turn and we crossed the finish line. The crowd roared.

Once the chariot stopped, our friends mobbed us. They started chanting our names, but Annabeth yelled over the noise: "Hold up! Listen! It wasn't just us!"

The crowd didn't' want to be quiet, but Annabeth made herself heard: "We couldn't have done it without somebody else! We couldn't have won this race or gotten the Fleece or saved Grover!"

I took it from there. "Nor would I have been able to slay Polyphemus without his aim at the end! My baby brother, Tyson Jackson!"

Tyson blushed. The crowd cheered. Annabeth planted a kiss on my cheek which made me blush. The roaring got a lot louder after that. The entire Athena Cabin lifted me and Annabeth and Tyson onto their shoulders and carried us toward the winner's platform, where Chiron was waiting to bestow the laurel wreaths.


	20. Tyson Leaves and Thalia Returns

**A/N:** Certain ancient Greek names matches words use of foul language but no foul language was intentionally used.

* * *

 **Tyson Leaves and Thalia Returns**

That afternoon was one of the happiest I'd ever spent at camp, which maybe goes to show, you never know when your world is about to is about to be rocked to pieces.

Grover announced that he'd be able to spend the rest of the summer with us before resuming his quest for Pan. His bosses at the Council of Cloven Elders were so impressed that he hadn't gotten himself killed and cleared the way for future searchers, that they granted him a two-month furlough and a new set of reed pipes. The only bad news: Grover insisted on playing those pipes all afternoon long, and his musical skills hadn't improved much. He played "YMCA," and the strawberry plants started going crazy, wrapping our feet like they were trying to strangle us.

Grover told me he could dissolve the empathy link between us, now that we were face to face, but I told him. I'd just assume keep it if that was okay with him. He put down his reed pipes and stared at me. "But, if I get in trouble again, you'll be in danger, Percy! You could die!"

"If you get in trouble again, I want to know about it. And I'll come and help you again, G-man. I wouldn't have it any other way," I said. "In return I want you to teach me how to open it from my end if possible. That way if we're separated and I need help I can contact you."

Grover seemed to ease into the idea about that and agreed. He went back to playing "YMCA" for the strawberry plants. I didn't need an empathy link with the plants to know how they felt about it.

…

Later on during archery class, Chiron pulled me aside and told me that despite my work with the Mist, Meriwether decided not to have me back next year. Apparently I had too much of a un-groovy karma that disrupted the school's educational aura. Then he handed me his cellphone and made me call her.

The worst part was the beginning—the "Percy-Jackson-what-were-you-thinking-do-you-have-any-idea-how-worried-I-was-sneaking-off-to-camp-without-permission-going-on-dangerous-quests-and-scaring-me-half-to-death" part. It didn't help that I tried to explain that Hermes was the one that send us off in order to try and bring Luke back.

But finally she paused to catch her breath. "Oh, I'm just glad you're safe!"

That's the great thing about my mom. She's no good at staying angry. She tries, but it just isn't in her nature.

"I'm sorry, Mom," I told her.

"It's okay. You were send out there to save Luke," my mom said.

"I could come home for a while," I offered.

"No, no. Stay at camp. Train. Do what you need to do. But you _will_ come home for the next school year?"

"Yeah, of course," I responded. "Make sure my next school year have a swim meet team."

"You know I will," my mother responded.

…

As for Tyson, the campers treated him like a hero. I would've been happy to have him as my cabin mate as long as I needed, but I knew eventually Tyson had to join the forges. Unfortunately that time came. That evening, as we were sitting on a sand dune overlooking the Long Island Sound, he made the announcement.

"Dream came from Daddy last night," he said, "He wants me to go underwater for the rest of the summer and start learning to work at the Cyclops forges."

I was shock but happy for the big guy. "Tyson—that's great."

Tyson nodded. "Daddy also says if it goes well, I can come and visit next year and stay with you and mommy until summer vacation ended."

I smiled hearing it. "So when would you leave?"

"Now."

"Now. Like… _now_ now?"

"Now."

I stared at the waves in Long Island sound. The water was glistening red in the sunset."

"Hard to leave my brother and mommy after you guys take me in," he said with a trembling in his voice. "But I want to make things. Weapons for the camp. You will need them."

He was right. The Fleece hadn't solved all the camp's problems. Luke was still out there still under Kronos' influence. And Kronos was still re-forming in his golden coffin. Eventually, we would have to fight them.

"It's okay, Tyson. I'm sure mom would understand," I responded. "And I'll use my new shield well."

"Yeah! Save your life some day," he said as if it would happened like that.

He headed down the beach and whistled. Rainbow, the hippocampus, burst out of the waves. I watched the two of them ride off together into the realm of Poseion.

Once they were gone, I looked down at my new wristwatch. I pressed the button and the shield spiraled out to full size. Hammered into the bronze were pictures in Ancient Greek style, scenes from our adventure this summer. There was Annabeth slaying the Laistrygonian dodgeball player, me fighting the bronze bull on Half-Blood Hill, Tyson riding Rainbow toward the _Princess Andromeda_ , the CSS _Birmingham_ blasting its cannons at Charybdis, and me slaying Polyphemus.

What shock me most was what he also carved on it that wasn't part of the adventure, the picture of Luke Thalia Annabeth and I six years ago. I'm surprise he added it since he seen Luke's bad side. My guess he knew how important that picture was to me, so I guess it was his saying that any family of mine is a family of his.

I started missing Tyson, but I know he was following his destiny.

"Hey, Percy."

I turned.

Annabeth and Grover were standing at the top of the sad dune.

"Tyson…" I told them. "He had to…"

"We know," Annabeth said softly. "Chiron told us."

"Cyclopes forges." Grover shuddered. "I hear the cafeteria food there is terrible! Like, no enchiladas _at all_."

Annabeth held out her hand. "Come on, Seaweed Brain. Time for dinner."

We walked back toward the dining pavilion together, just the three of us.

A storm rage that night, but it parted around Camp Half-Blood as storms usually did. Lightning flashed against the horizon, waves pounded the shore, but not a drop fell in out valley. We were protected again, thanks to the Fleece, sealed inside our magical borders.

Still, my dreams were restless. I hear Kronos taunting me from the depths of Tartarus, trying to convince me to abandon my dad and join him.

Then my dream changed. I was following Tyson to the bottom of the sea, into the court of Poseidon. It was a radiant hall filled with blue light, the floor cobbled with pearls. And there, on a throne of coral, sat my father, dressed like a simple fisherman in Khaki shorts and sun-bleached T-shirt. I looked up into his tan weathered face, his deep green eyes, and he spoke those two words: _Brace yourself_.

I woke with a start.

There was banging on the door. Grover flew inside without permission. "Percy!" he stammered. "Annabeth… oh the hill… something happened…"

My eyes widened. Annabeth had been on guard duty that night, protecting the Fleece. Either something happened to her or what we been waiting for happened.

I ripped off the covers, my blood like ice water in my veins. I threw on some clothes while Grover tried to make a complete sentence, but he was too stuned, too out of breath. "She's lying there… just lying there…"

I ran outside and raced across the central yard, Grover right behind me. Dawn was just breaking, but the whole camp seemed to be stirring. Word was spreading. Something huge had happened. A few campers were already making their way toward the hill, satyrs and nymphs and heroes in a weird mix of armor and pajamas.

I heard the clop of horse hooves, and Chiron galloped up behind us, looking grim.

"Is it true?" he asked.

Grover could only nod, his expression dazed.

Chiron grabbed me by the arm and effortlessly lifted me onto his back. Together we thundered up Half-Blood Hill, where a small crowd had started to gather.

The Fleece was still there, glittering in the first light of dawn. The storm had broken and the sky was bloodred.

Everyone moved out of our way as we galloped forward.

There at the base of a tree, a girl was lying unconscious. Annabeth was kneeling next to her, wearing her Greek armor.

Annabeth saw us and ran to me. "Percy… it's her! I don't… don't know how, but… she just appeared."

Annabeth's eyes were streaming with tears. I leaped off Chiron's back and ran to the unconscious girl. Chiron said: "Percy, wait!"

I didn't listen, I had to see for myself.

I knelt by the girl's side. She had short black hair and freckles across her nose. She was built like a long distant runner, lithe and strong, and she wore clothes that was between punk and Goth—a black T-shirt, black tattered jeans, and a leather jacket with buttons from a bunch of bands.

Without a doubt in my mind I was seeing my childhood friend and older-sister-like-figure who gave her life to save Annabeth's Grover's Luke's and my life six years ago: Thalia. She was definitely older than she was when she was turned to a tree, but she didn't look like the age of eighteen she should be.

I turned to the campers. "She need s nectar and ambrosia," I said.

I took her by the shoulders and lifted her into a sitting position, resting her head on my shoulder.

No one moved, not even Chiron. They were too stunned.

Then the girl took a shaky breath. She coughed ad opened her eyes, revealing them to be electric blue.

She stared at me in bewilderment, shivering and wide-eyed. "Who are you?"

I was slightly confuse and worried, but I answered. "It's me, Thalia, Percy Jackson."

Thalia looked even more confused.

"That's impossible—the last time I saw him—you—he was a seven year old child," Thalia said.

I chuckled as I let tears rolled from eyes. She still had her memory. Now the difficult part came—explaining how she been a tree for six years. Either way, at least we had Thalia back. And I don't care if Kronos try to influence her the same way he influence me, I'm not planning to let Kronos get her _and_ Luke.

* * *

 **A/N:** That's the end of this story. By the way anyone who wants to do the whole 'Olympians and demigods read' type of story using the Tales of the Son of Poseidon, may do so as long as they informed me about it.

Also I decided when I get to the Heroes of Olympus part of the series, I decided not to call it 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon and the Heroes of Olympus' but rather 'The Tales of the Heroes of Olympus'. I'll get into details about it _after_ I get to and finish the Last Olympian story.

Lastly, if you haven't by now, please read 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Early Adventures' and 'The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief'.

Next story...

The Tales of the Son of Poseidon & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse

Seems like a simple quest, help Grover save two half-bloods he found and keep them from joining Luke's army. Simple right? If you think that it's that simple you haven't been paying attention to the last two quest I been on, because rule number one about being a half-blood, nothings that simple. Especially when there are now Hunters of Artemis involved.


End file.
